


Your Life Over Mine

by kaylacscott (SilverStreaksofStardust)



Category: Boy Band (TV), In Real Life (Band)
Genre: M/M, Sichael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-02-09 18:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 24,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12894516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverStreaksofStardust/pseuds/kaylacscott
Summary: Michael Conor has to learn to cooperate with an annoying person, all the while being miles away from his family. He also has to graduate and take over his father's company, even though his interests are somewhere else.But attending a different school is maybe the greatest thing ever for him. Especially when he finds out that the people who are truly loyal is all that he needs.





	1. All the Way Outside of Here

Michael Conor feels the bruise on his face throb every time he moves his mouth, so for the most part he sits in his seat quietly. His gaze is focused through the window, yet the surroundings are foreign to him. Living in Anderville his whole life, he's never actually been to the outskirts of a city before.

Mostly there's trees that reach high in the sky, colours of red, of yellow, and of orange capturing his attention. There's houses clumped close together, once going a certain distance down the long road, and everything looks nice, and tidy, and barren.

He's not used to being on a bus, either. Usually he will be cruising to places in his black Toyota; a vehicle that he likes despite his friends' teasing. It's not fancy, but very reliable. Devin Hayes, one of his close friends, owns a mustang—which is cool—but Devin is seriously obsessed with it. Both of them come from wealthy families. They're not like millionaires, but have enough money to get things they want and not do any work.

As much as Michael hates to admit it, especially since it makes him sound like an arrogant asshole, he enjoys being lazy. Getting away with stuff, the threat of contacting his parents—he feels powerful. The truth is, his parents can't really do anything.

His dad is a successful entrepreneur of a huge company, and his mom is a nurse. Basically, it means work is all they ever do, so any disruptions cause annoyance. Talking to their children's teachers are at the bottom of their list. The babysitter they hire is just someone who can handle their rowdy kids.

Michael knows that he's supposed to take over the company when older—but he wants to do something else. Sitting in an office all day and talking to people about finance or business issues sounds boring. His dad probably thinks highly of him, but doesn't know how Michael is failing History class, or struggling with English.

However, the exact words, "Conor Michael Smith is suitable to take over my company. I taught him everything he knows" comes from his dad's mouth, to the people who work at the company.

 _Smith_. The surname is so ordinary. That's another thing that bothers Michael. He's not an average person, yet given such a simple name: Conor Michael Smith. Michael Conor is what he prefers, so everyone calls him that at school.

The bus suddenly takes a sharp left turn, making Michael pull away from his thoughts. He's the only one on it, so it feels rather lonely. There's emptiness suffocating him; even noise is better than silence. He's eaten half of his granola bar (substitute for breakfast), but the nerves in his stomach mess up his appetite.

"We're here," the driver reports, the bus coming to a full stop in its lane. The bill of his ball-cap almost covers his eyes, so Michael isn't really sure how he can drive like that.

Michael grabs his Jansport backpack—the only thing that reminds him of his former school—and steps off the bus. There's a huge sign out at the front that states the school's name, and kids walking across the campus, chattering happily.

_Eastwood High, here I go._

The feeling of apprehension is battling inside of him, but Michael can't do much about that. _Maybe it won't be so bad_. _It's only for nine months, anyway_.

. . .

It takes a while for Michael to get his schedule. The lady in the office is disorganized, her desk strewn with papers and empty coffee cups. Her appearance looks messy, too—blonde hair in a sloppy ponytail and outfit a cardigan and sweat pants. She has a large cabinet with files, presumably every student in it.

Again, another reason why Michael's last name is a drag. 'Smith' must be a very common name in the school's system.

"There you go!" The lady beams, at last handing an envelope over. "It's great that you arrived at this time. Picture Day is tomorrow."

Michael manages a small smile back, and then leaves.

_Ugh, they have Picture Day? I bet it'll be some old person who doesn't even know how to use a camera._

The school is pretty huge, so Michael hopes he can easily find his classes. He opens the envelope, reading his locker information. _441A. What the—?_

Going near a locker, he reads _1D_. Great. So he's not even close.

He only has a backpack anyway, but once getting his books it'll be heavy to carry. Taking his schedule out, he inwardly groans. There's gym in the morning. _What kind of torture is that?_ He's not even fully awake.

There's Phys. Ed, Calculus, Language Arts, and History. That's only on Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Wednesdays are Music (Elective), Drama, Spanish, and Health.

He can probably ace some classes, like Health. Drama sounds weird, but hopefully the teacher isn't wacky or anything.

"Hey, are you new here?" A girl taps on Michael's shoulder, making the boy frown, looking up from the papers.

"Yeah. Do you know where my locker is? 441A."

"You're a senior!" The girl looks even more interested by the passing second. "Right, so the freshman and sophomores have lockers downstairs. Yours will be upstairs, along with the juniors."

"And what about textbooks?"

"I'll help sign them out for you. Just give me your schedule."

Michael is surprised by the eagerness to help, but quietly accepts it by handing his timetable over. He finally studies the girl, noting the long auburn hair and green eyes. "I'm Michael."

"Viola. So, where are you from?"

"Uh, Anderville. It's near Toronto." Michael tilts his head, vaguely interested. "Why did your parents name you after an instrument?"

"Actually, it's after the flower. You see them a lot around here; the small purple ones? No?"

"No." There's an awkward pause. "I'll go to my locker. We can meet up there."

"Sure." As Viola walks away to retrieve Michael's textbooks, Michael rolls his eyes.

 _Honestly, that girl is really weird_.


	2. A Sense of Responsibility

"Open up! Ugh!" Michael bangs on his locker door in frustration. He's put in the locker combination at least twenty times now. He ignores the weird looks given by the other students. _Like they haven't been annoyed by inanimate objects before, sheesh_.

"Dude, you okay?" A guy steps forward almost hesitantly, like Michael will attack him. He has a mop of black hair, and angular features, including the sharpest jawline Michael has ever seen on a person before.

"Yeah. It just won't open."

The guy outstretches his hand. "Let me try."

Almost reluctantly, Michael shares the combo. It's already twice that people have helped him. It feels weird, like he should owe them or something.

When the stranger dials the code, it clicks open successfully. "There you go. You probably didn't spin the dial a full-way for '7'."

"Thanks." Michael wonders why the person isn't going away yet. _Does he want something?_ "I'm Michael."

"Drew Ramos. And up until yesterday, I was still known as the 'new kid'. You'll learn to deal with the curiosity." Drew gives a friendly smile.

"Where are you from?"

"The Bronx."

 _Wow_. Michael wants to ask something, but strangely feels shy. It may be too personal, but— "Why did you move all the way to Canada?"

"Family issues." Drew quickly asks, "Where are you from?"

"Anderville. It's by Toronto." Before they can chat any further, Viola appears, clearly struggling with the weight of books in her arms.

Drew immediately helps her, while Michael stands by his locker, idly watching.

"Whoa, why are you carrying all of these?" Drew questions. "Do you even have History?"

Viola blushes. "For Michael."

As if that's a visible cue for him, Michael takes the textbooks out of Viola's hands and shoves it in his locker. "Thanks." Drew places the last two textbooks neatly on the shelf, and Michael sighs in relief.

"I wish I had gym with you," Viola sighs. "But at least you'll be with Chance!"

Drew immediately stiffens, which doesn't go unnoticed by Michael.

"Who's Chance?" Michael asks.

Viola leans forward, as if there's a secret to tell. "He's the kindest, most beautiful, most amazing person! He's _sooo_ pretty, and—"

"Viola, you're rambling," Drew cuts in.

"Kindly shut up, _Andrew_."

"What if he hears you?"

"Oh, come on, we all know you have a crush on him."

"Dude!" Drew flushes, glancing at Michael. "Uh, you don't have a problem with... you know?"

"Nah, man. It's fine." Michael sees same-sex couples around in his community. It's normal. He's just currently feeling like a third wheel.

Viola's eyes brighten. "We should go visit him! Maybe we can hint on _Drance_!"

Drew crosses his arms. "If anything, it's _Crew_. Uh, not like it matters. He doesn't like me."

Michael's head is swarming in confusion by the terms 'Drance' and 'Crew'—whatever they are, it sounds strange.

Viola huffs. "Okay, who is he currently crushing on?"

"Miles. Y'know, the stereotypical 'bad boy'."

"And you're the stereotypical nerd! That's so cute!" If emojis are possible on people, Viola will have heart eyes.

Michael figures it'll be bad to crush their dreams—from what he's heard, it's obvious that if Drew doesn't have any guts, Chance will end up with someone else. He really wants to see this Chance guy now.

"First period is in two minutes," Drew says, glancing at his phone's lock screen. "Guess I'll see you guys later."

"Sooo, are you interested in anything? Anyone?" Viola stares up at Michael.

"I just got here. And I'm not looking for a relationship." Michael takes his math textbook out, remembering that's the class after gym.

"But—"

The bell rings, and Michael realises he doesn't know where the gymnasium is. "Uh, Viola, could you show me—"

"Across from the Nurse's office, can't miss it."

"...Where's the Nurse's office?"

"Downstairs. Didn't you see—? Oh gosh, I'm late!" Viola gives an apologetic look. "You'll know where it is by the red arrow." With that, she rushes away.

Michael walks downstairs, narrowly avoiding from bumping into other students. Like when he first entered the school, he finds himself staring at the office. Looking to his left, there's the row of lockers and classroom doors. To his right, it's the washrooms and a dead end.

_Where is the gym?!_

Michael's not the type to freak out about being late to a class, but for some reason, he feels sick to his stomach. Everything is new to him. _He's lost_.

. . .

Rather than asking a teacher where the gym is located, Michael heads to the library. It's quiet; as it should be. Michael sits at one of the nooks, hidden at the back of the room. It gives him a sense of security.

All of the books have a musty smell, which bring familiarity. It causes Michael's eyes to momentarily sting. Although he was a little kid, usually asking a lot of questions, he'd be silent whenever his mom read out loud to him. It would be in the child's section of the library, books like _Robert Munsch_ and _Dr. Seuss_. He liked listening to her voice, rather than hearing the story.

But he's not with his family anymore—he's far away from them. And once he graduates, he'll already be at his job.

He already misses hanging out with his siblings. Talking about their horrible babysitter and playing random games to pass time. Seeing his friends who understand what it's like, to pretend everything is okay. His parents, who used to organize a family game night on Fridays and eat together at family meals.

He misses so much from when he was younger. _Maybe he took things for granted. After all, it's his fault that he's stuck here._

Michael rests his head against his backpack. There's a vague memory of a book. Although it was a kid's book, it made Michael cry. He forgets the title, but it was something about a family... How a mother raised a kid, then the kid grew up and took care of the parent in return.

He understands, now, that there's something special when a parent watches their child grow up.

 _I wish my mom and dad could ask about my life,_ Michael thinks. It's selfish to think about, but if his parents didn't work that much, things could be better.

 


	3. Take Care, It'll Be Okay

In math class, Michael sits by the door. It's kind of expected that he is sitting alone, but he forgets what it's like, for new kids having to fit in.

The teacher is already heading straight into a topic—derivatives—instructing Michael to just 'follow along'. Michael's kind of glad that the class is behind. He's already taken calculus last year.

"Now, as we learned yesterday, derivatives in math are taking the rate of change of a function..."

Michael finishes the sentence in his mind, and spaces out. He feels slightly guilty, because the teacher is trying his best, but students are not listening. Either it's from pure boredom, or already getting lost. _Maybe if the dude has a happier tone and got, like, a tattoo or something, there will be more attention. Wait... what's the teacher's name again?_

Suddenly the door opens, and a kid walks in at a leisure pace, obviously not caring about the teacher's stern look. There's an aura of intimidation wrapped around him—maybe it's the uncaring stare, or ripped jeans and leather jacket.

"Miles, please sit down," the teacher says. His grey eyebrows are furrowed, almost appearing as a monobrow. "Did you complete your homework last night?"

The boy, Miles, cocks his head then smiles. "My dog ate it." There's some laughter.

The teacher's face is pure annoyance, and Michael rubs his eyes. He isn't sure what's worse—a teacher letting jerks step over clear authority, or a plain asshole who's wasting time.

Seemingly pleased by the audience's reaction, Miles heads over to Michael, which sends warning bells in his head.

"You're in my seat," the boy says gruffly. Nearby students snicker, anticipating drama. Up close, the guy looks harmless. There's a lot of brown hair held back by a bandana, and dark eyes that look tired but held by mistrust.

Michael studies the person for a minute, analyzing if it's a fight that's worth it. Miles is the type that won't back down, and even though Michael thinks he has the element of surprise in favour for him, it will only make them enemies. Besides, there is a good reason why he's here, and it's not to start another fight. "Why don't you sit somewhere else?"

Scoffing, the boy sits beside Michael, yet a look of admiration flashes across his features. "You're new here, but that's still my spot."

"Fine." It takes Michael a moment to realise that this is Miles; the one who Chance has a crush on.

 _While Chance may seem very popular, he's obviously not good at picking out guys_. Michael smirks to himself.

The teacher starts to write an example on the board, all the while Miles making irrelevant comments.

How he'll survive this class, Michael didn't know. _Step one is probably choosing a different seat._

. . .

Michael didn't know how hungry he was until the bell rang. The students looked so much happier and full of life, opposed to their zombie states in the class, and practically ran off.

Deciding that he doesn’t want to be trampled over, he waits a while for the crowd to be gone. There's a lot of noise outside, and the math teacher shakes his head, as if used to it.

"Hey, New Kid. Sit at my table?" Miles looks at Michael expectantly.

 _Okay, how do I say this carefully?_ Michael pretends to look bummed out. "Oh, sorry, man. Promised somebody else."

"Who?" Miles looks offended, or that could just be the appearance.

"Chance." The name slips out with no thought.

"Oh. Well, see you around, I guess." Miles walks away without sparing a glance back.

"Michael, I have emailed the homework for you to catch up on." The teacher hands Michael a sheet of paper, showing a table. "These are the lessons planned for this week. I'm sure that you will easily catch up. I have faith in you!"

"Thanks, Mr..." Michael coughs. "Thank you. Enjoy your lunch." He walks off, hoping to easily find someone else to talk to.

As much as he hates to admit, he needs friends to survive this year. At least an acquaintance who he can partner up with in class, and copy homework from.

The location of the cafeteria, unlike the gymnasium, is pretty obvious. There's two wide doors, and even from outside you can hear the noise.

Bracing himself, Michael enters and looks around for a familiar face. It's like a sea of kids. Some look at him, some don't.

He gets his food, which looks pretty basic—tater tots, chocolate milk, and a Cajun chicken salad. _Not so different from my other school_.

Michael hopes this won't be like a movie where he trips or whatever on his first day. Embarrassment is totally uncomfortable, and usually he handles it badly.

 _Whenever in a stressful situation, just breathe. Inhale slowly. Exhale slowly_. That's the advice given from his therapist. Michael probably can't do that; he easily gets annoyed with people. If a certain person makes him angry, he lets his actions respond in a problematic way.

 _An example of that was months ago... Mikey's birthday_.

At the thought, Michael's hands grip his tray tighter. He tries to get rid of the memory; the existence that it even happened. He circumnavigates the lunch room, looking inconspicuously for Drew, or heck, even Viola.

Part of his luck, he finds a secluded area at the back. He understands why no one sits there—it's near the trash bins, with flies nearby. It's only a one-seater, which is strange, considering the other lunch tables are seated for ten.

As Michael eats, he's oblivious to the other kids' whispers about him, and some sympathetic looks.

_Okay, so next period I have... uh, was it History?_

Michael opens his backpack, searching for his schedule. It's irritating to be clueless of where his next class is. To his amusement, he finds a packet of hi-chews rolled at the bottom of the bag. There's mostly mango and grape, so he eats one of those first.

"Oooh, what'cha eating?"

Michael almost jumps, quickly looking up at the intruder. It turns out to be a boy with a huge smile, and black hair that is shaped like a wave. "Just candy. Want one?"

"Sure." The newcomer, without asking, sits right beside Michael on the one chair. "Name's Sergio. Do you play soccer?"

"No."

"Oh..." Sergio pauses, scratching his head. "That's cool. So, do you like any classes so far?"

"I have no idea where the gym is."

"I can show you!" Sergio has a big grin on his face, resembling an excited puppy. "Do you want to sit with me and my friends? Oh, later we can hang out after school!"

Michael's trying to answer, but to which topic, he doesn't know. This kid has ADHD or something. "Uh, we can locate the gym after I eat. I'd rather sit alone. And I already have plans after school."

"No, bro. You gotta meet people."

"I already did."

"Ooh, who?"

"Drew Ramos."

"He's really nice! Although he has this weird thing about Pokémon. Like, he can name them and stuff but doesn't like Pokémon Go. Crazy, right?"

"Not really."

"Do you like waffles?"

"No."

Sergio frowns, as if finally realising Michael's disinterest. "Ice cream?"

"No."

"Chocolate?"

"Uh."

"Do you like _anything_?"

There's a fine line between 'personal space' and 'get-the-heck-away-from me'. Michael clears his throat. "No."

"Why do you have a bruise on your face?"

Michael stands up abruptly, causing Sergio to almost fall off of the chair. "So where's the gym?"

 


	4. The Books and Past Years

The English teacher, Mrs. Price, is a friendly woman with an energetic vibe to her. She wears a lot of jewellery, and notably the classroom isn't filled with inattentive students or a weary atmosphere.

She hands Michael the novel the class is currently reading— _Lord of the Flies_ —and says they are up to chapter four. That's reading homework, yet Michael will probably read the chapters' synopsis online or something.

The tables in the class are round, seating around five, so Michael is kind of forced to meet strangers. He tentatively judges which seat is best, before finally spotting Drew walk in. Michael sits beside the black-haired boy, hoping that he isn't being intrusive.

"Hey," Drew greets. "Where were you at lunch? Viola and I tried looking for you."

"Found a spot." Michael leans back in his seat. "So what's this novel about?"

"Basically there was a war going on, and a group of British boys were flown in a plane. Then their plane was shot down and they landed on some deserted island. This dude named Ralph meets a overweight kid named Piggy, and soon all of the boys on the island gather by a conch..."

As Drew basically gives the entire plot away, Michael half-listens, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"—then the sadist, Roger, pushed a boulder rock over and it hit Piggy. The conch broke, representing order being lost. Luckily Ralph went out of the way, and—"

"Students, please get your novels out and turn to page '53'," Mrs. Price calls. "We also have a new student today. Conor Smith, please raise your hand."

Michael does so, clearing his throat. "I prefer Michael, actually."

" _Conor_ , oh my god," some idiotic and irrelevant person behind Michael snickers, elbowing his friend. "Nice name."

Drew glances at Michael, as if feeling the uncomfortableness radiating from the new boy. "'Conor' is a common name," he points out.

"He doesn't even look like a Conor," the same boy comments. Michael twists around in his seat to see a boy with light hair and one of those red varsity jackets that is so damn cliché-looking.

The English teacher doesn't notice the tension, starting to get into the lesson plan of the week.

"Shut up," Michael whispers, hoping it's evident that there is venom behind his words.

"Dude, I'm just saying." The boy finally turns around, revealing a serious expression and blue eyes that seem to be hold matureness. "I'm sorry. Shouldn't have said that, considering my name."

"What is it?" Michael feels strangely interested in this person. Besides for the apparent name business, it's the way that both carry themselves: proudly, honestly. There's the type of no-shit attitude, which is rare to find in his classmates.

"Jay Gilbert. But people call me J-Hype."

" _J-Hype_ ," Michael repeats, not sure if it's a joke.

"Yeah."

Michael turns back in his seat, trying to recapture Mrs. Price's instructions. He kind of thinks that this J-Hype dude isn't totally bad.

. . .

Oddly enough, as Michael makes his way to History class, a student quickly runs alongside of him. Like they're buddies or something, chattering the last few minutes before freedom is taken away in class by silence.

"Sorry for J-Hype. He's, like, really chill. I promise."

 _Why are people so friendly here?_ Michael merely nods his head. He observes the stranger is a boy with fair blond hair, square jaw, and blue eyes, looking grey-ish. There's an innocent vibe emitting from him.

 _Though he's probably not_ , Michael reflects. He racks his brain, trying to think of the name for the face... Mrs. Price did call on a few students in class, including the blond. _Brad? Brick? Brady—Brad? No, Brady._

"So which class are you heading to?"

"History."

"Cool," Brady? says cheerfully. "Dude, Mr. Rogers is killer."

Assuming that Mr. Rogers is the teacher, Michael nods his head once more. There's probably awkwardness etched across his face, so he tries to bring up a casual conversation. "My math teacher isn't that great."

"Mr. Piccadilly? Yeah, he's the worse. Like, he isn't mean but just talks a lot and leaves homework at the last minute."

"His name is Mr. Piccadilly?" Is all Michael can reply. "That's... wow. Uh, great name."

"Wait! Do you have drama on Wednesdays? That'll be so cool, dude. We can hang."

"I think so." Michael shrugs, forgetting his schedule. "Is the teacher crazy?"

"No." Brady's attention diverts to the classroom door. "There you go. Have fun."

"Aren't you going in?"

"Nah, I'm a junior. I just take senior English. But drama is a mix of every grade—all of the arts are. So is gym, between the juniors and seniors, but luckily I'm not taking that this semester."

Michael sighs slowly, memory going back to his morning. _Is gym class really that bad?_ Michael is not a huge sport-fanatic, but doesn't mind basketball.

The gymnasium is pretty okay for space. Sergio led him around earlier, showing the two basketball hoops, a soccer net, and coloured lines on the floor, marking for different sports (like the penalty shot line).

The 'tour' took longer than necessary, though. Sergio somehow managed to talk about a soccer championship game he played in last summer, using the words 'hella dope' which is odd to describe a huge winning game as.

"Michael! Sit with me!"

_Speaking of the devil. Well, technically thinking._

Michael grimaces, pretending not to hear the Latino boy and darts into the classroom.

"Yo, dude!" Sergio taps on Michael's shoulder. "Did you hear me? Anyway, I can't believe we finally have a class together! I heard from Jaden that you're cool with Miles Wesley. Like, Miles kind of hates everyone who is totally dumb or annoys him."

 _Like you?_ Michael has to bite his tongue to keep the comment to himself.

"Hey Sergio!" Some random girl pops up, completely ignoring Michael. She has brown hair and a pouty mouth—kind of pretty.

"Hey." As if flipping channels, Sergio suddenly changes into a different person—bashful, slower-than-usual in the head (Michael's view). "Uhm, hello. Hi. I am Sergio."

"Haha." The girl touches Sergio's shoulder briefly, hastily taking it off when finally noticing Michael. "Hi, I'm Penelope."

"Michael Conor."

Penelope smiles, but mostly directs it at Sergio. "Is your brother okay?"

Sergio looks visibly sad—shoulders dropping, smile looking more forced.

"Yeah, he's doing fine. Like, really good." Sergio brushes Penelope off by opening his backpack and pretending to search for something.

"Well... please tell him I said hi." Penelope walks off, like she didn't cause an awkward moment.

The teacher, Mr. Rogers, finally calls for attendance.

Michael has to say he prefers being called 'Michael' over 'Conor' again, but this time there was no comments. Well, except for one. Sergio's desk is right next to him (of course).

"I think you look good as a Conor," Sergio whispers. "Can I call you that?"

"No. Stop being annoying." The insult slips off of Michael's tongue, and he braces himself for a comeback.

Sergio, however, laughs instead. "You're hella funny."


	5. Whether the Weather is Cold or Not

On the Tuesday afternoon, currently 4:05 pm, Michael Conor is cold, annoyed, and impatient. He's waiting for the school bus to arrive, but it's late by half an hour.

Unfortunately he doesn't have any spare change, so hailing a taxi is out of the question. He needs to buy food, too, and that's always a changing variable for cost. His house is miles away, but if he has to walk, then it's worth it, rather than standing outside.

His orange hoodie does not block out the chilly air, and he reminds himself to bring a coat next time. _Nova Scotia's temperature is way different from Anderville's._

Michael prays to God that it will not rain. The sky is greyish, clouds merging together as a bad omen. Wishing for a millionth time that he has his Toyota again, he starts his journey home.

It honestly makes no sense, why he has to go to a random public school far away from his family. There's other sorts of ways to redeem himself, but spending a year with people that he won't ever see again... well, that sucks.

He's supposed to graduate with his friends—have fun because they are seniors. He thinks of the events that led up to this moment.

He shouldn't have snuck out to the party, clearly. He was supposed to babysit his siblings that night. But Mikey Jimenez, one of his friends, was throwing a party during the summer. It was big, people from different high schools coming in. Mikey seemed to know everyone, and of course there was underage drinking and mingling around.

Michael tried drinking before, and although he didn't like the taste, for some reason he kept a bottle by his side that night. The music, despite it being so mainstream, was thrumming and seemed to vibrate under Michael's feet. His eyes were blurred, grasping to see clearly. He felt like laughing for some odd reason, the stress vanished from his body and replaced with jubilance.

But things didn't end well. The RCMP, the parents, the school suspension—Michael doesn't know he's holding his breath until he exhales.

Going to another school is like a 'fresh start'. Nobody's heard of the incident, and after Michael learns discipline and hangs out with people with a 'good influence', Michael will be working at his dad's company.

Since he is seventeen years old, apparently he's allowed to travel alone. Thankfully where he lives is all sorted out—a modern, nice-sized house—though it may not be the best location. It's far away from school and downtown.

He wishes he paid more attention at the bus ride to school, but he can ask help from passerby for directions. Everyone seems friendly with each other anyway, like one huge extended family. Maybe he can even hitch a ride.

First he decides to buy food, especially since there's nothing in his fridge or cupboards. There is only one grocery store in town— _Sobeys_ —and he mostly gets Mr. Noodles. It's cheap, and can last him for a week. They don't seem to expire, either.

 _It almost feels like college_. Michael smiles ruefully to himself. He's heard from somewhere that being detached from human relationships make people depressed. Maybe it's because everyone needs company; even those who don't look like it. That makes him think of Miles.

If Michael didn't go to school, then Miles may have sat alone in math. Although Miles looks like a popular person—he seems to be a loner.

 _He also asked if I could sit with him at lunch_ , Michael thinks.

He pays for his food and heads out, just in time to notice a bus stop. Luckily, there's a bus arriving. Almost like someone answered Michael's silent prayers. He quickly races to it, making his way in breathlessly.

After the bus driver clips off his bus ticket, Michael finds the same spot he sat in earlier today.

. . .

Michael appreciates the little things as he enters his house. Somehow his parents buy a house with all the necessities, like furniture... (and a TV, which is vital in his opinion).

He quickly prepares a Mr. Noodles cup, before going to unpack his suitcase. He piles his clothes on his desk, deciding to fold them over the weekend, and grabs the toiletries bag to put in the washroom.

Laundry is going to be a new experience, since he never did it before, but how hard can it be?

When his room looks less empty, Michael goes back downstairs to eat dinner.

Flipping the TV on, he finds a show— _Murdoch Mysteries_ —and it's nearly ending, but he decides to leave it on. The noodles are resting on the coffee table in front of him (still hot).

Yawning, Michael leans back on the couch. About ten minutes pass by, and he starts eating his meal.

There's no more energy left to move, so Michael starts to get comfortable on the couch. With TV as his only company, he closes his eyes, and starts to sleep.


	6. Week of Logic

The week drags by slowly at a snail's pace. Or maybe sloth's—whichever animal is slower.

On Wednesday it was Picture Day, although Michael totally forgot (at least his hair looked good). He had to skip his second period class for it, because of alphabetical order and apparently there's a lot of students with last names beginning with 'R-S-T'.

But skipping Drama class was not much of a worry—probably just pretending to be dancing squirrels and singing or whatever.

It turns out Sergio and Michael both have Spanish together, although Sergio is like really fluent so there is a wonder why he is even taking it. Health class was kind of cringey, since they're learning about the reproductive system.

On Thursday, Michael got to go to gym class and had the opportunity to shoot the basketball... in the wrong hoop. He actually winces thinking about it hours later—though in his defence, he was guarded by a pretty tall dude and went to pivot in the wrong direction. Oh, and he met Chance Perez by shoving the boy to the ground. (Okay, so Michael can be aggressive while playing). Luckily Chance was cool about it, but that could be for appearances.

Michael has no clue why he was doing so horrible—he practices basketball a lot; especially one-on-one with his friend Devin (who's like a giant). Nobody teased Michael about the shot, but now they think he's the weak link of the team.

The other academic classes are not that bad. Michael didn't tackle the math homework his teacher, Mr. Piccadilly, assigned. However, he aced the surprise pop quiz. Miles missed school. English was okay. In History, Sergio nearly gave Michael a heart attack when jumping out of his seat and declaring he wanted to be partners with Michael. The teacher only began to say, "In groups of three, you will have a project—" before the outburst came up.

It was kind of cute, but Michael has no clue why Sergio bothers including him or whatever. The third member of their group is Jon Klaasen, who looks like a pretty laid-back guy. When the groups started to plan, Jon would nod his head and add ideas. They are supposed to do a presentation on a famous Canadian in history, finally settling on the dude who created basketball. Since the role of the nice-guy was taken, as was the slacker (Sergio will talk about different topics) Michael was the don't-give-a-f—

" _Falafels_!" Sergio had randomly said out of nowhere. "I love saying that. Not as much as _cacahuate_ , though." Michael had no clue what 'cacahuate' even meant, but did Google it up once at his house.

Anyway, Friday is pretty much the same. In gym they played soccer instead, and math was still boring. Michael had to sit alone once again, but didn't mind the extra room. In English class, Michael sat at J-Hype's table, and History their group managed to only do 25% of their project. It was due next Friday. Jon offered them to do their project at his house, so Michael and Sergio give their number out.

Since Michael mentioned the bus situation (some buses don't travel to certain destinations), Sergio said he can pick Michael up.

 _And at last, the weekend is here_.

. . .

Michael decides to buy pizza and hot chocolate since it's Friday. After he gets dropped off at his house, it takes a while to find his keys. There's a moment of panic—if they fell out, or if someone took them—but it's just deep in his sweater's pocket. He unlocks his door and steps inside.

He still feels like it's very uninviting. Maybe if he starts hanging pictures on walls and things on the mantel. But whatever—only nine months left.

He locks the door and then goes to the kitchen, settling the pizza box on the counter. For a nice distraction, he plays Green Day's "When September Ends" off his phone, which is pretty accurate since it's... well, that month.

It was only two days ago (Wednesday) that Michael realized his phone was on airplane mode, and when he turned it off, there were a couple of missed calls and texts. Michael's supposed to FaceTime with his siblings daily (according to his parents), but he doesn't feel like doing that right now. Devin was checking up on things, as well as sending 'miss you's'.

Yawning, Michael starts to make hot chocolate. Instead of using boiled water, he uses milk then heats it in the microwave. He wants to curl up on the couch with a huge blanket, but tackling his homework is the best choice. Sometimes he leaves things at the last minute (procrastination at his finest), but there's odd determination to get good grades.

Maybe he can set a career pathway for himself—if he has the grades and gets a scholarship, then he'll be able to prove that he can follow his own dreams. At the positive thinking, he retrieves his math homework out of his backpack.

The problems are easy enough, as he reads each question and answers. Math doesn't change—there's already formulas and logic. It's not all that difficult, as long as you know what you need to find.

Michael feels satisfaction as he places his completed Calculus work aside. In Health class there's supposed to be a small test about labelling parts of the human body, but he'll handle that later.

_Hm... maybe Spanish?_

The motivation is wavering away. Michael starts to eat his pizza, while looking blankly at the list of Spanish words. It's frustrating, because he never learned another language. In fourth grade he did attend French class, but hardly paid attention. Mostly the teacher used wild hand gestures and Michael repeated what it meant along with the other kids.

Spanish Vocabulary Words for Beginners

_amor - love  
feo - ugly  
fuego - fire  
gato - cat  
hermosa/hermoso - beautiful  
perro - dog_   
_pollo - chicken_

At least he knows the word _cacahuate_ , thanks to Sergio. Who even knows when he'll use the word 'peanut' in a sentence, though... He didn't know he was smiling until he went up to get his hot chocolate.

His phone suddenly buzzes, and he stares at the message, expecting his friend Chris.

**Unknown: Where do you live?**

Before Michael can think of how weird that sounds, there's another text.

**Unknown: Not a stalker, haha. It's Sergio !!!**

**Unknown: Were going to do our project tomorrow**

**Unknown: *we're**

Michael can't help but grin. He gives out his address, and waits for a response.

**Sergio: See you soon :) 11 pm good?**

**Michael: yeah**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's many words for 'beautiful' in Spanish, including bella/bello, linda/lindo, preciosa/precioso... certain types of the word 'beautiful' can be used in various situations, and I don't know when to apply them. I used Google Translate so if there are any mistakes, I am so sorry. I also looked up the question on Duolingo, so I'll try my best to make it accurate. Unfortunately, mistakes will happen with translating. 
> 
> If there are any mistakes, please tell me (well, if you know Spanish). Especially when Sergio will say some Spanish lines to Michael in the future, haha.


	7. Like A Chauffeur

"How did you get my number?" Michael asks. That's the first thing he says to Sergio, when getting picked up.

Sergio looks surprised, as if Michael asked, _Why is the sky blue?_ "You told me yesterday?"

"No, I told _Jon_." Michael goes in the shotgun seat, clipping his seat belt on.

"Why can't I know your number?" Sergio looks confused. "Besides, you did want to be picked up."

"Whatever." Michael's making a big deal out of nothing. He looks through the window, as if silence is going to resolve the issue.

Sergio goes out of the driveway, watching carefully in the mirror. Once they're on the road, he plays music. Some Spanish song starts playing.

Michael can hear some guy singing in a husky voice, with drums and a strings ensemble in the background. _Why couldn't Sergio pick something people actually know?_

"Dude, this is hella sick," Sergio says. "Ever heard of 'Primera Cita'?"

"No."

"It's a really good song. You should listen to it."

"I listen to Logic, Eminem, and J. Cole," Michael admits, because he likes to talk about music. Plus he doesn't want Sergio to think he's rude.

"You like rap?"

Michael smiles, because honestly, that's such an understatement. "I love it. I can freestyle."

"No way!" Sergio's eyes light up. "Can you do one right now?"

Michael feels a bit self-conscious. "Maybe later."

"Okay." Sergio tries to make small talk, going to the topic of sports. "Hey, do you play basketball? You asked me about the team when I gave you the tour."

"Yeah." Michael sheepishly adds, "It's my favourite sport. But I guess I'm a bit rusty. I scored in the wrong net and pushed a guy to the floor."

Sergio raises an eyebrow quizzically, before bursting out into laughter. "That's so classic! I mean, it's not good about the pushing part, but... yeah. Didn't take you as the aggressive type."

Their destination to Jon's house goes in view, as Sergio parks his car on the side. Michael's a bit disappointed, because it wasn't so bad, their conversation. Sure, Sergio can act clingy and weirdly smiles every second of the day, but... it's kind of nice.

"This is actually so cool. I've never been to Jon's house before!" Sergio says, making Michael wonder if Sergio has been to most of their classmates' houses. Then again, Sergio does hang out with a lot of people—he seems to know everyone, drifting from different groups.

Once Michael and Sergio head out of the car, Sergio practically races to the house and rings the doorbell. Michael stands alongside Sergio, a bit amused.

The door opens, and Jon appears, wearing a pink sweater and sweats. His snowy hair is damp, probably just from a shower.

 _Pink looks nice with his hair_ , Michael thinks, before realizing that sounds a little... well, gay. And, like, he's not ashamed to admit that he is a part of the LGBT+ community. He is proud of who he is, though won't really bring up the subject unless somebody asked. He doesn't like to be labelled, but he doesn't mind who he falls in love with. Who he's attracted to shouldn't define him as a human, anyway.

It makes him think of the Drew-and-Chance thing. Chance is officially out-of-the closet, yet doesn't get picked on. Unlike at Michael's school, where there's some homophobes. Michael never really talks about sexual orientation with his friends, unless it’s brought up casually like, 'Would you ever kiss a guy for a thousand dollars?'

The thing about love, is that you can potentially fall for anyone. It's more than kissing, hugging, or sex. It's caring for someone; willing to trust and love them unconditionally. It's a bond that's different from loving your family and friends, but similar.

Michael suddenly feels somebody slap his shoulder, and he turns to glare at the offending person.

"Sorry. You looked like you were about to collapse or something," Sergio says. "You okay?"

 _So if I was about to collapse you'll slap me?_ Michael shakes his head at the logic, but keeps the thought to himself.

"Got cookies and lemonade," Jon reports, oblivious to the tension, or maybe used to it. He steps aside to let them in. Michael and Sergio take their coat and shoes off, taking in the new atmosphere. "My mom makes them whenever we have people over."

"Hello, boys." Jon's mother appears, smiling warmly. She has wavy hair, mixed with brown-ish-auburn and blonde colours, and blue eyes, showing resemblance to her son. "I hear you're doing a project about William Morgan!"

"It's James Naismith, mom," Jon says.

Mrs. Klaasen shakes her head. "Well, whatever his name is. I'll be in the den if you need any help. You can also call on Joey for assistance—I'm sure he'll be happy for some company." Sensing Michael's and Sergio's confused looks, she clarifies, "Jon's younger brother."

"Joey's not going to help." Jon crosses his arms, a bit moody. "He hasn't been out of his room for ages. The only evidence we have of him living here is when Charlie exits his room." Michael raises his eyebrows at this. "Cat," Jon explains.

Sergio sniffs the air. "What type of cookies are there?"

"Chocolate chip." Jon's mother beams. "They're right around the corner."

Michael quickly follows Sergio into the kitchen, because talking to parents is kind of awkward. Not too long after, Jon joins them.

After devouring the cookies, they head to their project on Jon's computer.

"It's an old model," Jon explains, as it takes a while for the screen to load. "The computer is one of those first _Asus_ computers with _Eee_. Really sucks."

Michael nods his head, even though he has no clue what Jon is talking about.

Their slideshow presentation only has five slides, including the title and bibliography. They split sections into how basketball was invented, the rules, and about Naismith. After a while, Sergio suggests how it impacts people today, which they eagerly add. The more information, the higher the grade.

Their slideshow presentation only has five slides, including the title and bibliography. They split sections into how basketball was invented, the rules, and about Naismith. After a while, Sergio suggests how it impacts people today, which they eagerly add. The more information, the higher the grade.

It's around 7 PM when they realise they have spent four hours on the presentation. No surprise, they decide to wrap it up.

"Do you guys want to stay for dinner?" Mrs. Klaasen offers. "There's pizza."

"My family made pasta tonight," Sergio says in an apologetic tone. "But maybe next time."

"Yeah, I... I have food at home," Michael adds uncomfortably. He needs to go to his house early before it gets dark outside.

When Michael heads out, he feels a gentle tug on his arm. He turns around, seeing Sergio.

"Michael? Do you want a ride home?"

"Okay." Michael feels relief spread inside him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Once they slide into their seats, Sergio turns the car ignition on.

And at that moment, the singer on the radio belts a really long and high note that has Michael's ears bleeding. While Sergio nods his head to the beat, almost in an endearing way, Michael has never felt so much gratitude for him.

Even though his taste of music kind of sucks.


	8. Learn to Stay Here

Michael eventually calls his siblings on Sunday. He talks to each one, catching up on their life and drama.

It's going fairly well in Anderville—Kaitlyn mentions new neighbours moving in, which is surprising because the house hasn't been sold in a while. The former residents left because they couldn't keep up with their taxes.

Patrick mostly complains about their babysitter, Ms. Wardrick, which isn't new. Michael and his siblings all agree that their nanny is horrible. Their parents must not have hired on personality; she'll boss them around, and smoke when she thinks no one is looking. However, she doesn't tell on them, so the Smith kids don't tell on her. It's better off that way, too. Michael never needed to depend on anyone.

It is fair to say that Patrick is usually the one getting into trouble—he says things he shouldn't say out loud, and can be quite persistent, but has a good heart.

Michael tries to be a good role model for his siblings, especially since Patrick is at that stage of thinking he's cool. But he thinks he lost that type of respect with what happened at Mikey's party.

It's not like Michael meant for the fight to happen that night—but once there's an audience, he obviously can't back down. Cowardice is definitely not the right word to describe Michael. 

 _I'm sorry_ , he thinks to himself.

The thing is, after a wicked hangover you finally register what you've done the next morning—either the lingering memory, or your friends tell you. Michael can't even fathom what he did—people hate him because of it. Michael isn't sure why he was so mad in the first place.

He knows when to back down, but when a threat is made there's a fight, flight, or freeze response. If he froze, it would've ended badly anyway.

 _Even if I do deserve it_.

. . .

Days seem to get shorter during the winter, which is true because of the Earth's axis on a tilt, resulting in less daylight hours. The month is already December, people dressing fashionably in their layers of clothes and scarves.

There were a lot of birthdays, too—it took Sergio one week later to admit his birthday was on October 6th, so Michael gave the younger boy hi-chews. Although it's the flavours he doesn't really like from his stash, it's the idea that counts. Sergio ate it, and acted like it was a great gift, saying hi-chews are yummy.

Drew's birthday was on October 23rd, along with Mikey's (back in Anderville). Michael wished them both a happy birthday, partially guilty because he didn't give them any presents.

Chance's birthday was on November 10th, and he had a party, but Michael didn't go. Apparently Brady's birthday is on December 7th; a Thursday. Three days away.

When Michael goes to school on Monday, notably exhausted (stayed up late), Sergio bounds over happily. As Sergio babbles on about teachers, Michael gets his textbooks and tries to drown out the voice by looking at other people. He sees two boys walking by, deep in conversation. A girl hanging inconspicuously near a water fountain, glancing at her phone. A guy tying his shoelaces.

Michael locks gazes with a person by accident, who surprisingly stares back. The exchange sends a bad feeling in Michael's gut, but he waves it off, thinking it's dread for gym class.

"Do you want to sit with me and my friends?" Sergio asks, momentarily gaining Michael's attention. "I mean, lunch you should talk with people. And you... uhm, sit alone usually."

"I think I'll sit with Drew today." Michael's a bit surprised that Sergio notices him during lunchtime. Although Drew, Miles, or J-Hype are willing to lend company, Michael feels that it's out of pity. And, sure, maybe he can fit in. But there really is no point—especially when it's his final year.

"Oh. Can I join?"

"Don't know. You'll have to ask him." Michael misses the dejected look on Sergio's face. "I should probably go to gym class—see you again sometime."

When he heads to the gym change rooms, he sees Chance Perez. The boy says a 'hello' and Michael mumbles one back, looking away. He changes quickly into his gym attire, and frowns when entering into the gymnasium.

Some people who didn't change are sitting on the bleachers, either on their phones or talking.

The gym teacher, Ms. Feiron, claps her hands. "Okay, everyone! Please partner up and grab a volleyball. We're just starting this unit, so we'll begin with bumping the ball to one another. Remember, pay attention to your stance. This—" she demonstrates, her feet and hands together "— is incorrect. Make sure you have your knees bent, feet spaced apart, and arms straight. I will be marking on participation, and improvement." She straightens to glance at the people on the bleachers. "Get down from there and join, please."

"My arm hurts," a person calls out.

"Mr. James, you used that excuse last time."

"But it _does_ hurt."

"I saw you open the door rather effectively this morning."

"I was... struggling through the pain."

Michael drifts his attention away from the small drama. Already some people are partnering up—Jaden and Marcus, Matthew and Paul...

"Michael. Want to be partners with me?" Chance stands in front of the boy with a volleyball in his hands.

"Uh. Yeah." Michael can't contain the surprise from his voice. _How does Chance even remember him? Well, he did push Chance, but... still._ He thought Chance will partner with somebody else.

"Cool." Chance beams. "Have you played volleyball before?"

"Yeah. But I didn't join a team."

"You play basketball, though."

"How did you know?"

"Sergio told me. We're having basketball tryouts in March. Marcus, Camry, and Jon are definitely joining." Chance passes the ball to Michael, who on reflex catches it. "Bump it back." Chance laughs. "Michael, you're supposed to bend your knees."

"I _am_." Michael squats down awkwardly and throws the volleyball to Chance.

"Volleyball. Not basketball." Chance stands beside Michael. "Legs like this. Knees bent. And arms... like this." Michael copies the stance, just for his benefit. "Great. Let's try again."

Michael gets used to passing the ball back, despite his wrists and arms hurting. He'll probably get bruises afterwards.

. . .

When Michael locates Drew, he sees Sergio talking animatedly about something.

"' _Shakespeare is undoubtedly one of the greatest writers of English_ '  
—no he's not!" Sergio says, then spots Michael. "Hi! Do you wanna sit beside me?"

"Well, I was going to sit here anyway." Michael puts a noticeable distance between them both.

Drew raises his eyebrows. "Well. How was your day?"

"Volleyball. Calculus." Michael figures those two words are self-explanatory enough, and Sergio winces in agreement.

"Where's Viola?" Michael asks Drew.

The curly-haired boy shrugs. "Sick. I think she's just saying that, though. Probably hanging out with her boyfriend, Austin."

"I haven't seen Austin in school at all," Sergio chimes in.

"He skips school a lot." Drew taps his fingers on the table, humming a random tune. Michael tries to decipher the song, which sounds suspiciously like 'Bodak Yellow'.

"Hey. You don't mind if I sit here?" Chance arrives at the trio table. Drew stops humming immediately, sitting straighter in his seat as if in class.

"No problem," Sergio says cheerfully.

"Thanks." Chance sits beside Drew, looking at Michael. "I was wondering if you'll join the volleyball team. Not many guys are joining, which means there might not be a team this year. And, well... I think if people see you playing, more will join."

"Is that your hypothesis?" Michael's nose scrunches, partly because he used the word 'hypothesis'.

"Yeah, you're the new guy. Mysterious, and, erm, good-looking. If you attract attention for both girls and boys, more guys will join."

Michael isn't sure if the theory is correct. Chance is either using the flattering technique, or thinks that most of the student body is boy/girl crazy. Then again, he has seen many couples around... Andrew Butcher and Andrew Bloom have a girlfriend. Miles Wesley apparently broke up with his girlfriend.

"I can join." Everyone looks at Drew, who suddenly looks uncomfortable by the attention. "Like, if you want."

"Of course." Chance looks more enthusiastic. "Dude! That'll be amazing."

Michael rolls his eyes. He decides to be helpful, at least looking to see if Chance likes Drew. "Hey Chance, did you know Drew can do a backflip?"

"Wow! Really?" Chance looks at Drew with interest.

"Uh, I—" Drew glares at Michael. "Used to. But I can't now."

"Maybe we can try sometime. You just need to practice." Chance bumps his shoulder against Drew's.

 _Is that flirting?_ Michael wonders. _Well, Chance might be touchy-feely with most people._

"Michael can rap!" Sergio announces. "I didn't hear him yet, but it's fair to say that he's awesome at it!"

It's Michael's turn to be flustered. "Well, uh, yeah. Not that awesome."

"Can I hear?" Chance brightens.

"Is there a beat somewhere?" Michael is kind of tempted to go with it—but it's weird to randomly rap in a cafeteria. Pulling a _High School Musical_ is not the best.

"J-Hype!" Chance says. "Wow, can't believe I didn't—wait a minute." He goes out of his seat, talking to a couple of people.

Michael has no clue what's going on, until Chance arrives with the tall blond.

"Yo, you can freestyle?" Jay asks in amazement, or maybe disbelief.

"Yeah." Michael forces a smile. "Not that good, though."

"I want to hear!" Brady Tutton joins the small group enthusiastically, standing alongside J-Hype and Chance.

Immediately, J-Hype starts beatboxing, which makes Michael incredibly impressed. He nods his head, getting sense of the rhythm. "Alright, I need you guys to give me a word."

"I got a word! Boy band!" Some random outsider shouts.

"Uh. Alright. Okay, yo, yo. I'm in your veins like poison. I'm like America, put me in the boy band! Yeah, yeah. I brought the boys in. I got the crowd they're screaming b-bring the noise in. I'm with my boys, chillin' on the back street..."

Amidst the cheers of encouragement, Michael can see Sergio smiling brilliantly. And that makes him relax, feeling like he belongs right here. _Right with these people_.


	9. Sergio Junior Squared

A thing that Michael has noticed over time is the level of energy when people enter the Health classroom. It's not that bad of a subject, but most students dislike the teacher.

Sergio looks sad, slowly going in the classroom with Michael following behind. During the couple of months, Michael learns to put up with Sergio's bubbly self. Michael doesn't quite yet consider them as best friends, but they are close enough to talk about life.

They settle in their seats, just in time for the second bell to ring. Michael sits beside Drew, while Sergio sits with a person named Hayley.

Their teacher, Mr. Carter, usually wears a scowl on his face, and today is no exception. He stands in front of the class, gesturing towards two bins lying in front of him. "Now, you might expect this in Home Economics. But since this school doesn't offer that program, I am supposed to teach you how to properly take care of yourselves. Use protection, kids, especially if you can't handle the responsibility of your own." He holds up an object from the bin, revealing a plastic baby.

Some kids snicker, earning a glare from the teacher.

"There's a chip in each doll, recording the times they cried and the duration of it. So don't even think of leaving them in your closet at home or school lockers." Mr. Carter looks at some people individually, including Miles and Sergio. "You may choose your partner, but pick wisely. I don't care which person takes more care of the baby—just make sure to treat it as an actual responsibility.

"Now, after you get into pairs—two, not three—please get a baby."

"Can you work alone?" A girl raises her hand shyly. She's sitting by herself, no doubt afraid to talk to anyone.

Mr. Carter shakes his head. "I specifically said _pairs_ , not singles. Who doesn't have a partner?"

Sergio walks to Michael. "Do you want to work with me?"

"Sure." Michael agrees, a bit reluctant that Drew didn't ask him first. However, the wavy-haired boy was glancing in someone else's direction.

"I don't think he likes me," Sergio admits to Michael, keeping his voice low.

It takes Michael a bit to realise that Sergio's talking about the teacher. "He's alright. Just a bit strict." Feeling in a comforting mood, he adds, "Your hair looks good."

"Really?" Sergio touches his head, managing to look cute while doing it. Michael likes how the red sweater on Sergio covers over his hands. _Wait. Why am I even thinking about this?_ "What gender do you want our baby to be? Wait, do they even have genders on these babies? Hey, I just realised—wouldn't it be cool if these dolls pee or poop? Well, actually that's gross. Because then if they have like... these sensors thingies... will that mean putting actual waste inside the baby?"

Michael stares at the younger boy, wondering what Sergio is saying.

"So, will it be better to get a girl or a boy?"

"Just pick a baby. I don't care." Michael quickly backtracks, since it comes out rude. "Doesn't matter, just pick using your instinct."

"Okay." Sergio goes to the plastic dolls at the front on the tables.

Drew has a weird look on his face, and every so often glances at Michael. Taking the hint, Michael asks, "Something up?"

"I was thinking of asking Chance. But I don't know. He doesn't have a partner yet..."

"Just ask!" Michael says. " _Do_ it."

"Okay, fine." Drew takes a breath before walking to Chance.

Michael eavesdrops, while pretending to write something down in his notebook.

"Hey, uh, wanna be my partner for the baby? Like, not marriage. I mean partner. Like. You know. Haha." Drew avoids looking at Chance's face.

Chance smiles. "Okay. That'll be fun."

"Awesome. _Bruh_ ," Drew adds, as if acting casual.

They get their baby, and Michael smiles to himself from the awkward exchange.

" _Miiichael_. So I got us a boy! I could tell from the _you-know-what_. The manufacturers actually added their _you-know-what_ which is kinda weird. Anyway, we can name him Sergio Junior Junior!"

Michael frowns. "Uh... what?"

"See, I'm Sergio Jr, but if we name our baby Sergio, wouldn't you add another junior?" Sergio mumbles, "It made sense in my head."

"Hey _guys_ ," Drew says. "How're you all doing?"

"Great." Michael stares at the baby. "Sergio was thinking of calling it Sergio Junior Junior."

"Our baby is not an 'it'!" Sergio gasps dramatically.

"It's a demon baby," Drew says.

"We should name ours Manhattan," Chance says. "Because you're from the Bronx, right? It can be another place in New York."

"Your child's going to grow up getting bullied." Sergio raises his baby in the air, "Our baby should be named Sergio Junior Junior, born on... what's today?"

"January 22nd," Chance supplies.

"Born on January 22nd!"

"Sergio Junior squared," Michael adds.

"What's that?"

"In math. You know... squared? Like, the power of two? Three squared is nine."

Sergio shrugs. "I suck at math."

. . .

When Michael heads home, he finds his photos from Picture Day, along with a newsletter.

He grimaces at his photo—noticing his attempted smile which looks more like a frown. He rarely smiles in pictures—probably good for passport photos, at least.

The newsletter is for the city's events. There's some gathering where an unknown singer will perform. Bingo night for Seniors. Coupon for a slushie at the fast-food place, _Chillin' Slush_. Michael throws the paper in the trash.

Being the end of January, he just has five months left and then he's gone. He definitely wants to see his family—the homesickness he feels every passing day hides in his mind.

It's okay to miss home, he knows, but... well, there is no sense in worrying over things like that.

 _Don't worry over the things you have no control over_ , his mom once told him. And Michael does follow the advice—for the most part, at least. But it sometimes gets difficult.


	10. Snowy Day and Shrill Crying

Complete shock is the correct description for the reactions of the students of Eastwood High. On a Wednesday morning, out of nowhere, snow is falling lightly from the sky, just beginning.

In Nova Scotia, Endorlow, the weather is incredibly unpredictable. There will be a heavy downpour of rain, then the sun shining serenely over as if the clouds haven't dunked water over passerbys' heads. Snow is the last thing that should happen—however, the odd occurrence is seen as a good thing.

Since the buses are not available due to the weather, Michael calls Sergio for a ride to school. With the baby tucked under his arm and backpack in hand, Michael goes in the shotgun seat, sighing wearily.

The baby couldn't stop crying during the entire night, until Michael shoved it under his armpit. Maybe the baby thought it was a loving embrace or something, but Michael is grateful for the sound to stop. Since Sergio and him agree to switch each day, it's now Sergio's turn, which is a huge relief.

"How's my wittle Sergi-poo?" Sergio coos at the plastic doll. "Did you change his diaper?"

"Sergio. They don't wear diapers." Michael runs a hand through his hair, wondering if it looks good. Although he managed to shower this morning, he didn't have time to comb it.

Sergio asks if they can stop somwhere to grab a drink, and heads to the _Tim Hortons_ drive-thru. "Do you want anything?" Sergio asks Michael.

The older boy shakes his head. "I'm fine." He doesn't want Sergio to spend money on him.

"Okay." Sergio ends up ordering two _Creamy Chocolate Chills_ , against Michael's wishes. "Have you tried these before?" Sergio asks eagerly.

Michael only smiles. "Is it good?"

"It's _hella_ good. So dope—it increases my mood a ton. Okay, so my happiness level is this small—" Sergio puts his fingers together to measure a minuscule amount "— then increases with each sip."

After paying and receiving their drinks, Sergio hands Michael one. "Try it!"

Apparently a Creamy Chocolate Chill is a cold iced drink with whipped cream on top. Michael takes a sip, and laughs. "Yeah, it's good."

"Told you. Dude, can't believe you never tried it." Sergio shifts his attention to the car radio, and turns it on. 'Stitches' by Shawn Mendes begins to play, which isn't much of a surprise—the radio always plays top hits. "Uhm, do you like this song?"

Michael has heard it a lot, but for Sergio's sake, nods his head. He tilts his head, trying to get a sense of the lyrics. "Here without your kisses, I'll be needing stitches!"

"Wow. You sing really good."

Michael wonders if Sergio is joking, so he looks over at the Latino. They lock eyes, and Michael wonders if he has the same expression as Sergio right now: complete happiness.

The way Sergio smiles makes him warm up inside, seeing the dimples on the cheeks and the crinkles by the warm, brown eyes. _He likes how Sergio is completely carefree._

"Right. School." Sergio takes a sip from his drink, before placing it in the cup-holder. "Your class is Music, right? Wednesday."

"Hm." Michael stares at the road ahead, a faint blush crawling up his face. _Did Sergio see how I was staring at him? Is that why he stopped looking at me?_

"... without your kisses, I'll be needing stitches!" Sergio sings along.

Michael joins in, despite his small knowledge of the lyrics.

The school comes into view, a new song beginning, and Sergio pouts. "Darn. We missed the best song ever. And I'm not talking One Direction."

"What was it?"

"It just... reminds me of something. It's nothing." Sergio hastily changes topics. "See you in Spanish. And Health."

"Your turn to carry the crying baby." Michael laughs at Sergio's pretend glare. "Sergio Cubed is all yours for the day."

"It's Sergio Junior Junior! What the heck does 'cubed' even mean?"

. . .

In music class, it is pure boredom. Although Michael initially thought the class will be fun, most kids who joined are not enthusiastic.

The room itself expresses their feelings—music sheet scattered on the floor, instruments in their cases: resting on shelves, unused. The teacher seems to give up trying to motivate them. He tells them to "find a song and play".

Mr. Mosley is a great teacher—in fact, the kids all love him. But music is not always seen as a popular selection in movies or books. Students who are attempting either stare at their music sheet, not daring to play a sound for any peers teasing. In fact, it's almost like you'll be a loser if you play an instrument.

Michael is kind of annoyed by this. The arts and music program at his school in Anderville was big. In fact, it even overshadowed the sports. His former school takes pride in the yearly school play, concert, and art showcases.

Since this school's budget is low, the only instruments are clarinets, flutes, trumpets, a drum kit, one trombone, and two alto saxophones. Apparently there used to be a piano, but it broke last year and remains that state today.

"Michael? Can I please talk to you?"

Michael looks at Mr. Mosley in surprise. "Yeah." He gets out of his seat, walking to the desk.

"You're not in trouble." The teacher pulls something up behind him, revealing a case. "Open it."

To any stranger, it will look like a large guitar case. But Michael knows better. Opening it, the sight confirms his suspicions. "Whoa."

"When you said you played the violin since you were six, I thought you'd like to practice more. You'll go far, kid, with your determination."

"Thank you." Michael was absolutely speechless. "Wow. How did—was it expensive?"

"Figured it's a nice gift. I've spoken with your teachers at your other school, Michael. You've got a gift. Don't let that go to waste."

 _Music_. That's all Michael wants to do. But expectations get in his way—he's supposed to have a different future planned out. _I'm just a dreamer... just another artist trying to make it in the industry._ But if he lives that type of life where he's unhappy—it's not worth it. He should have no regrets.

Once Michael heads back to his seat, he opens the case and sets his position. Nearby students stare at him. Michael smiles to himself, and begins to play.

Sometimes he gets lost in the sound—the notes stringing together, somehow   
forming a beautiful sound. It’s more than playing: it’s the emotions behind it all. Music takes him to a different state, where it feels so powerful and a place of belonging that he can actually be a part of.

_This is all he wants. This is all he needs._


	11. Jokers and Kings

When Michael first saw the drama teacher at the beginning of the semester, he thought the teacher must've drunk a lot of caffeine. But it turns out, during those long days—six months—Mrs. Bunton, or Emma, as she likes students to call her, is quite energetic. She also has an obsession with the _Spice Girls_ , playing their top hits during one of the activities.

Currently the drama students are doing 'creative exercises ' which can be code for 'making an idiot of yourself'. Mrs. Bunton lets each person step up on the stage (which is a 3-inch-high platform) and then she says a word, which the student must demonstrate. Because the drama room is next to the gym, they can hear the thudding of basketballs and screaming.

Marcus is supposed to act like a chameleon (who even knows how to act that out) but Marcus does a pretty good job. Basically he just goes behind things all the while singing that he's a chameleon. Once he's finished, he goes back to his seat, unable to contain his laugh. The class applauses after his performance.

"Marcus! When you hit that stage, you are like _pow_!" Mrs. Bunton gushes, her face absolutely beaming. "That was incredible. Michael, you're up next."

Michael goes on the stage reluctantly, hoping what he has to act out isn't horrible. He’ll even act out Spongebob Squarepants. (And yes, he considers Spongebob not embarrassing—in fact, he can do a mean impression of the cartoon character).

"Let's see... how about the word 'apple'?"

 _Apple? What are apples supposed to do?_ Michael wonders how this activity is even necessary. Sure, it helps be creative and quickly think, but it's _acting_. He'll rather deal with making up a speech. He stands on the stage, doing nothing. There's an awkward silence for a full two minutes. Miles coughs, while Camry checks his phone.

"Very nice, Michael! I love how you looked lost in your thoughts—a bit sullen and stoic. You must be a sad apple."

Drew grins at Michael when the boy sits back down next to him. "At least you didn't get King Kong."

"Or a Disney princess." Brady looks pretty shook, his face red. "That was not my finest moment."

"You did good," Drew reassures. "I especially liked you singing 'Part Of Your World'."

Brady groans, hiding behind Michael's back, while the older boy laughs.

. . .

In Health class, it's mostly caring for the babies while learning about using protection. Needless to say, students act embarrassed by avoiding gazes or saying idiotic things.

Michael half pays attention, all the while glancing at Sergio every now and then. Sergio stares blankly at the teacher, probably drifting off into his own world. _What is he thinking about?_ Michael frowns.

"I always wanted a baby girl," Chance comments, looking down at the plastic doll in his arms. Michael and Drew look at Chance, but don't say anything.

The four of them are used to each others' company. Since Chance and Drew are partners, they hang out more along with Michael and Sergio tagging along.

"Jeez, just date already," Michael mutters under his breath. Drew and Chance must be incredibly shy or oblivious. Although Drew likes Chance, the fear of rejection stays in place. Chance may be blind to Drew or not interested—either way, Michael just wants them to be happy (and possibly) together.

"What?" Chance looks at the blue-eyed boy suddenly.

"Nothing."

"No, you said something. What was it?"

Michael bites his lip. "I said today is boring."

"Oh." Chance looks disappointed.

Drew wrings his hands, his lips pursing.

"Hey Michael?" Sergio turns to Michael. "I have a problem."

"What is it?"

"Can I talk to you later?"

Michael nods his head, curiosity burning through his veins. _Was this why Sergio was silent all day?_

Mr. Carter claps his hands, awakening people by confusion or surprise. "We're hitting this old school. Everyone grab a banana and a condom. Don't laugh—just go ahead. If you all cooperate you can leave to your lockers early." Although it sounds generous, there's only ten minutes left anyway.

Each student hastily grabs a fruit and protection. Sergio can't keep a straight-face, looking at his friends. "Why do you all look serious?"

It's true. Michael grins, seeing Chance's tongue sticking out in concentration, and Drew frowning when trying to slip the condom on.

"My banana is huge," Drew sighs in frustration.

Michael and Sergio laugh simultaneously, until the bell rings, drowning out their laughter.

"Sergio? Can I have a ride home? Please," Michael says. The word 'please' sounds foreign on his mouth.

"Yeah. Of course. Lemme just grab my things. You know where my car is."

Michael heads outside in the parking lot. Designated spots are for the students. Sergio's car is located nearby, since it's seniority and alphabetical rules. He waits, slightly impatient. Through his peripheral vision, he sees figures getting close. _Maybe their car is beside here_. Michael feels nervousness flow inside of him.

"Hey." A tall guy with blond hair and brown eyes approaches with two other people flanked by his side. One is another guy with brown hair and green eyes, the other a girl with dark skin and short black hair.

"Hi." Michael offers a small smile, yet the expression never appears across the strangers' faces. _Never seen them before at school. Maybe they go to a different one_.

"I'm Austin," the blond-haired boy says, crossing his arms.

"Oh! You're Viola's boyfriend." Michael remembers the conversation at the cafeteria two months ago. Although there is mentionings of Austin, Michael hasn't seen the guy around. Viola also seems to be missing, to the point that Drew doesn't explain her whereabouts.

"Austin?" The girl looks confused. "You're dating someone else?"

"Of course not! Why would I date that freak? She's weird. I only like you, baby, you know that." Austin tries to comfort his girlfriend, or rather other girlfriend.

"Don't call me that." The girl slaps Austin across the face, both him and Michael wincing.

"Celia—"

" _No_." Celia glares. "You are such a cheating, horrible person. Don't even try talking to me anymore." Those are not the exact words she said, but it's the less explicit version. She storms away, the silent green-eyed guy racing after her.

Austin sneers, which makes Michael wonder how Viola and Celia even fell for such a douchebag. But people can always underestimate people. Some act charming, but over time show their true colours. _There's lots of people like that_. "Wow, now I have more reasons to hate you."

"We never even met." Michael tries to keep his voice calm, thinking how unfair this whole thing is. He didn't cause any problems lately, up until today.

"Well, we did now." Austin takes the first swing, causing Michael to hit impact against a vehicle.

"Fuck!" Michael, fully worked up, pushes Austin in turn.

"You fucking little piece of shit! I'll beat the shit outta ya!"

"You're so creative with words. Every time you open your mouth, I keep hearing shit." Michael smirks when Austin turns red with fury. He lets Austin lunge, and then crash not-so-gracefully on the pavement.

"Michael! What is going on?"

Michael's stomach drops at the sound of the voice, and slowly meets Sergio's gaze. "He attacked me. I just defended myself."

"Are you kidding!" Austin groans, holding his bleeding nose. "He fucking came out of nowhere! I was minding my business, then he pushed me."

Sergio looks uncertain. "Michael, let's go."

"This isn't over," Austin hisses to Michael, out of earshot of other people. "Next time, you just wait."

"Couldn’t quite hear you. Maybe speak to me next time when your voice isn't so nasally." Michael goes in the car, watching triumphantly as Austin limps away into the sunset.

Sergio sighs, turning the car ignition on. "Michael..."

"I swear, I never even met him before. He just wanted to pick a fight," Michael rushes. "Do you believe me?"

"Of course I do," Sergio smiles. "You're the sweetest person ever!" And then, out of nowhere, he hugs Michael. "So glad you're okay. I just wish I was here earlier."

It's weird to admit, but Michael was never hugged before. At least, not at this age. Michael finds it difficult to show affection, doing it only through words. Even if it's a simple 'I love you' to his parents, he feels like he's too old to say that. So with this hug in particular, it makes him feel loved.

 _I think I like him_. Michael stares at Sergio, reality crashing down on him. _So, like, I really, really like Sergio. Okay. But I can't mess this up._


	12. Job Workout

"Can anyone give me the answer for number one? Miles, perhaps?" Mr. Piccadilly looks at the boy expectantly, who just stares down at his mark-free paper.

There are math equations on the board they're supposed to solve—function operations—and Michael figures it's pretty easy.

"Don't know," Miles mutters. His jaw is clenched, a sign of stubbornness.

Michael discreetly angles his paper so Miles can see it, although Miles doesn't take a glance.

"Did you at least try?" Mr. Piccadilly is strangely persistent. Michael notices that the teacher picks on Miles the most, but it must go past the fact that Miles doesn't try at all.

"How does this even help me when I'm older? I'm totally going to see these functions when I'm out living on the streets!" Miles stands up from his seat, gathering excitement from classmates. After all, usually math class is uneventful.

"Miles, calm down. Do you need any help?"

"No! You think you can control me because you're dating my mom. Like in _hell_ I'm ever going to respect you." Adding to the dramatic moment, Miles storms out of the classroom, slamming the door shut.

 _Wait, what?_ Michael lets the fact sink in, the pieces slowly forming together. _That must be why Miles gives a hard time to the teacher._

Mr. Piccadilly regains composure, though stumbles over his next words. "Anyone else know the answer?"

. . .

"C'mon, you _have_ to come," Chance says, putting his pleading face on.

Michael stares, unamused at him. Chance is using the puppy dog look, although Michael just thinks he resembles Harry Potter. With the glasses, and dark hair disheveled, the similarities are striking. Now all Chance needs is the robes and wand to complete the look.

Although Chance can probably pull off any look, he doesn't wear his glasses that much in public—only pulling them out when reading or seeing the white board in class. He must have been absentminded today, though, leaving them on during their lunch time.

Michael eats his own lunch, grateful that it's pizza day in the cafeteria. After Phys. Ed and Calculus, food instantly brightens his mood. "Why would they even celebrate it? " he points out. "It's been a month already." Volleyball season ended in mid-February, and now it's the beginning of March: meaning basketball.

"Wait, are we still talking about the volleyball celebration?" Drew asks, looking up from his book.

"Yeah. The whole team is going to _Wheel's Pizza_ ," Chance explains, naming a popular pizza parlour. He leans over Drew's shoulder. "What is that? You're reading _Grapes of Wrat_ h?"

"Novel. Our test is this Friday. So... wait, it's tomorrow?!" Drew groans. "God, I also have a science test this afternoon. Do teachers like working their students to death?"

Chance laughs, holding Drew's hand. "You'll do fine."

Michael elbows Sergio, earning a grunt from the younger boy. "Are they dating?" he whispers.

Sergio glances at the hands. "Yup. Looks like it," he says, rubbing his shoulder. "Or they could just be friends. I hold your hand, don't I?"

" _Once_." Michael feels strangely defensive. "It was more like guiding me through the mall."

"So this is not hand-holding?" Sergio grabs Michael's hand.

"Aw, are you two a couple? Congratulations."

Michael and Sergio look up to see Austin heading to their table. Michael withdraws his hand quickly. The bully does not have a menacing face this time; it's the usual charming look reserved for adults and good impressions.

"No," Sergio says. "We're not together."

"Did you want something?" Chance asks politely. He's kind of the dad figure of the group.

When Michael and Sergio told him about yesterday's incident in the school's parking lot, Chance immediately asked if their parents know. Then it was reporting to the principal, and making sure Austin will never bother Michael again. Michael avoided the whole procedure, much to Chance's disapproval, but left it. After all, there aren't any physical wounds on Michael.

Austin rubs his chin, looking like a total idiot. He has a slight lisp in his voice when speaking, due to the fact that he smashed his face against the ground. His nose is a bit crooked, and bruised at the end.

Actually amazing he showed up today... wasn't thinking he'll show his face, Michael thinks. _Now he probably wants revenge._

Austin shuffles uncomfortably, perhaps from the four people looking at him. "Well, I want to talk to Michael. Alone." He stares at Michael, holding some sort of challenge in his eyes.

"Fine." Michael gets out of his seat. "Where?"

"Let's head to the washroom."

"I'm not falling for that." Michael crosses his arms. "If you want to speak, fine. This is a public place."

"Hey, not gonna start anything." Austin holds his hands up in surrender. "Just wanted to apologize. Don't really want to admit my stupidness out loud. Besides, you could tell the principal what happened yesterday. I don't want a suspension."

"Fine." Michael keeps his guard up, though, and heads to the bathroom. A random guy using the urinal gives a squeak, and quickly races out of the washroom with his zipper undone. Other than that, there are no other people.

Austin rolls his eyes. "Okay, so are you gay, or what?"

"Something like that. Are you?"

"Nah. I'm definitely into girls." Austin licks his lips. "So, you and Sergio, huh? Never would have imagined. Although I was suspicious. I always knew he was gay—he's, like, totally flamboyant."

"We're not dating."

"Oh, c'mon, you must've noticed he likes you. He follows you around, acts weird and giggly. Do you like him?"

"As a friend." Michael doesn't say anything else, because talking about this is weird. Especially when yesterday they were using their fists against each other.

"Oh, and I'm sorry." Austin tilts his head. "Maybe I can sit at your lunch table."

"Whatever." There's a lot of tension, but Austin remains unfazed.

 _He's up to something_ , Michael thinks. _But what? He can't do anything in public..._

Once they head back, Sergio, Chance, and Drew look concerned. They also sense something fishy is going on.

"Everything okay?" Sergio asks carefully.

"Never better." Austin places his hand on Michael's shoulder, making Michael flinch instantly.

"Don't touch me," Michael snaps.

Austin grins. "Poke, poke."

"Hey, stop it," Sergio says. Unlike the usual sunniness radiating from the boy, he's glaring daggers at Austin.

Austin ignores him, patting Michael on the back. "Hey, look, still touching you."

Michael grits his teeth, both aggravation and a sense of déjà vu playing out.

"Stop," Chance cuts in. "Austin, _don't_. He told you."

"He's not bothered by it. Are you, Michael?" Austin stares at Michael's face, waiting for any sign of weakness. Or maybe submissiveness.

 _His eyes look like His_. As if frozen in time, Michael's resolve falls. _Get away_. Words are stuck in his throat, unable to make a single sound. _Don't let it be like last time._

Drew stands up. "Austin, you better fucking leave or else I'll do it myself."

"Fine." Austin slinks away, taking Michael's pride along with him. Michael feels humiliated at what happened, avoiding the worried looks.

"I'm sorry," Michael manages to say. "I didn't—" He abruptly leaves, to where no one can see him. Or find him, and know that he's weak, and a coward.

 _I'm such a fucking mess_.

 

. . .

 

**Sergio: Where are you?**

**Sergio: Are you okay?**

**Sergio: Please be okay..**

_Seen_.

**Michael: I'm fine.**


	13. Unforgettable Lessons

Michael doesn't go to school the next day. He mostly stays on the couch, putting on TV as a distraction. There's _The Bachelor_ playing—which is honestly stupid but somewhat entertaining—so he leaves it on.

Every so often he looks at his phone, wondering why Sergio even stays by him. Why anyone will.

That type of confusion always settles in the back of his mind, whenever he hangs out with his friends. Well, if that's the right word. Michael doesn't quite know what the rules are to make it official. The feeling of acceptance and belonging is all he wants.

For some reason, there's a different approach to how friendships form compared to when he was younger. He didn't worry a lot, though, when he was little. Being a little kid, most things were acceptable.

. . .

On Saturday, Michael has a killer headache when waking up. He likens it as a hangover, but not as worse. He swallows some Advil, not sure if it's the right medicine, but whatever. Eventually his headache fades away.

Around seven PM, he's surprised to hear knocking on the door. He didn't invite anyone over (not like someone will want to). When he opens it, he sees Sergio.

"Hey." Michael feels a bit on edge, hoping he doesn't look that bad. He almost automatically runs a hand through his hair.

"Hey." Sergio's wearing his red sweater, looking like he just rolled out of bed. His hair is dishevelled, but more in an adorable way. It's gotten flatter these past few months, compared to the first day Michael met him. "Can I please come in? You know, to talk."

"Okay." Michael notes that this is the first time a person ever entered the house. As long as Sergio stays in the living room, then he won't see the mess upstairs. Michael has been delaying on the laundry, cycling through his last pairs of clean socks and underwear.

Once they both settle on the couch, the TV there to clear the silence, they head straight into addressing the elephant in the room.

"What happened on Thursday..." Sergio chews his lip. "You don't have to tell me. But are you okay?"

"Yeah. I am," Michael sighs. "I was just overreacting. There was nothing—uh, nothing happened." He guesses Sergio may have an idea why he acted that way, but thankfully the younger boy doesn't tread any further on the topic.

"Where are you parents?" Sergio looks around the house, as if the place gives any clues.

"At work."

Sergio cautiously puts room between him and Michael. "Kind of looks empty."

"Not staying here for long."

"Oh. What are you planning to do after this?"

"After high school? Probably working with my dad." Michael meets Sergio's gaze and the younger boy quickly looks away. "What about you?"

"I don't know. I mean, I was planning to continue with soccer..." Sergio glances at the floor, as if finding something interesting on the carpeting. "I'm not good at anything. I'm stupid."

"No you're not."

Sergio looks up. "Yeah I am. Soccer is the only thing I have. I can't read that good or solve math problems—it's confusing."

"Well, you passed all your other grades. And most people struggle with math." Michael pauses, hoping to come off reassuring. _Wow, I'm bad at comforting people._

"I'm failing." Sergio swallows hard, and Michael can see the signs of holding back from crying. "I might be held back one year. I-I just wish I was smart. Like you."

"I'm not smart. Spanish is my worse subject, and I'm pretty sure teachers hate me."

"Oh my god, shut up," Sergio smiles. "Everyone loves you. When you arrived, you kind of changed things. You know how there's like separate groups? Chance is like the jock and Drew is the quiet type. Now we all hang out. You're like the mysterious new kid, and I'm—uh, whatever I am."

Michael takes the opportunity to make Sergio feel better. "You're popular?"

"No. Definitely not."

"Kind?"

"Sure, but—"

"Amazing? Cute? Smart? Funny?"

Sergio shrugs, but he has that smile on his face—one that's genuine, and makes his eyes brighten. One that makes Michael think it's the most beautiful smile in the world. "I'm really not."

"Yeah you are." Michael leans forward. "You're probably the only reason why I go to school. When I first met you, I thought you were kind of annoying...." Sergio looks a bit offended at this. "But then you stuck by me, and I thought... you're amazing. Especially for putting up with me. I'm not used to having someone like you in my life, but I'm glad you are." Michael wants to say more, but he's waiting for Sergio's reaction.

Sergio slowly leans closer. He's hesitant, looking at Michael's lips then up. "The thing is, I didn't plan for some random, hot stranger to arrive to school one day. I didn't know that he'll be one of my best friends, and I didn't know that I'll care for him so much."

"I'm hot?" Michael laughs. Their mouths are really close, and secretly he's freaking out. _Okay, so... do I kiss him? Does he want to be kissed?_

"Of course you are. Anyway, I'm thinking about this guy. I'm thinking he's not used to being loved." Sergio hesitates, but adds, "I don't know why. He's freaking awesome. Especially when he lets his guard down. When he finally opens up—then I know that he wants to talk to somebody."

"Serg—"

"When I first met you, I wondered what made you look so different from others. Maybe it's the fact that you looked so serious. You rarely smiled. I had a thousand questions about you—but when we were friends they became less important. Because I got to know you, and you're more than a person." Sergio pauses. "Uhm, I—"

"Sergio." Michael looks down. "You know that first day? You asked me questions."

"Yeah, I forgot what they were."

"You asked if I liked waffles, chocolate, and about the bruise on my face," Michael recalls.

"Haha, the first two were so stupid," Sergio says.

"Well, I said 'no' but I don't mind waffles, I like chocolate, and... the reason why I had a bruise was because of a fight."

"Someone hit you?"

 _That's what usually happens in a fight_ , Michael almost says, but thankfully holds it back. "Yeah. One of my friends, Mikey, was holding a party. It was near the end of summer—nearly school. I drank a lot. Not good for helping me cope, though. I think it was just for an escape. So I walked around the house—I think it was near nighttime. I know it was dark outside. There was music. Uh, there was this guy. Who... when I just stood there. We started to talk. Then he—" Michael breaks off the sentence, struggling to find something else to say. "I didn't know what was happening. He just started to, uhm, push me against the wall. I said for him to stop. He didn't. I pushed him away—but I couldn't keep him back. We started to fight. I panicked. I don't know what happened. But in the end, I was still standing. He wasn't."

Sergio frowns. "That guy is a total douche. I can't believe he did that to you."

"Well, I deserved it." Michael bites his lip. "The thing is, I was, and probably still am, spoiled. Basically I'm a white privileged kid, who up to this point, am used to getting my way and feeling sorry for myself even when there's people out there who have it way worse."

"Nobody deserves to go through that," Sergio protests. "If you didn't fight back—could he have...?"

"I don't know. But the funny thing is, the only purpose was for me to forget about things at home that night. And now I'm here. I still miss my family, but it isn't so bad." Michael shifts, looking away. "The guy was thankfully alive, so I wasn't charged for manslaughter. I was suspended from school, though. Being drunk definitely didn't make anyone trust my story. I wasn't even supposed to go out that night—I had to babysit my siblings. My dad thought it'll be good for me to go to a different school—where nobody knows what I did. Moving away was the only option, since my dad is well-known in Anderville. Dad also thought that Devin—my friend—was a bad influence. More like I was a bad influence on him."

"Whoa." Sergio looks puzzled. "So, like... you're here because you got into a fight? But you were actually defending yourself?"

"Kind of." Michael feels a weight being lifted off of him. He finally told someone. And, god, it was such a relief. "It doesn't matter the reason why I was sent here. I'm glad I did. Or else I never would have met you."

"Yeah. That would've been bad. That we didn't meet, I mean." Sergio tilts his head. "Is this bad timing if I ask you something?"

"No. Tell me."

"I have this problem. I kinda told my family about you, and they want to meet you this Wednesday night. Are you available?"

Michael tries not to grin. "So, did you say I was a friend?"

"Yeah." Sergio, for the first time ever, looks flustered. "But, uh, my parents think I like you."

"Well you should."

" _Wow_." Sergio pushes Michael lightly. "You're _weird_."

They keep staring at each other, though the exchange isn't so awkward as before. Relenting a bit, Michael is the first to lean back on the couch and watch TV.

Eventually they fall asleep, Sergio resting his head on Michael's shoulder.


	14. Underappreciation

Michael is kind of glad he and Sergio didn't kiss yet. Although he wouldn't have minded, he is careful about heading into relationships.

He dated before—though not seriously—in seventh grade. That was the time where everyone asked each other out, almost like it was mandatory.

A girl named Chelsea asked Michael if they could date, so he agreed. He liked her shy smile and brown eyes. There wasn't much sadness when they broke up, though.

Michael hopes that, if he and Sergio can make things work, they do it slowly. Hardly in many relationships, Michael wants to be the patient and faithful boyfriend. The one mothers approve of, the one that won't break someone's heart.

Michael does consider himself the loyal type. He knows what it's like, when people leave. Or worse: act like a friend, but turn a blind eye to your troubles.

Maybe that's why he has trust issues. It's difficult making friends when you move around a lot. He was born in Québec, and stayed for three months as an infant. Then he moved to Vancouver for four years, Calgary for eight years, five years in Anderville, and finally in Endorlow to the present day.

It was for his dad's job, and Michael somewhat understood it was necessary. After all, having five kids was a lot.

He shifts on his side, the couch really uncomfortable so he doesn't know how he slept like that last night. Sergio already went early in the morning, but left behind a sticky note on the TV screen.

He scans the note, laughing afterwards.

 _Thank you =) - Sergio_  
P.S you look good while sleeping  
Not in a creepy way

Feeling hungry, Michael eats a piece of toast, knowing he should buy more groceries. There's extreme laziness though, and he checks his phone, noticing that Drew sent him a photo.

It was a meme, and Michael grimaces. For some inexplicable reason, whatever Drew deems as funny, he has to tell or show it to someone.

 **Haha** , he texts to Drew, then sends Sergio a message before heading out downtown.

**Michael: hey thanks :)**

. . .

Like always, Wednesdays create dread feelings. Especially because of Drama, Spanish, and Health class. But it was way different than sitting in class, and either embarrassing yourself or not knowing what was going on.

It was the Wednesday Dinner.

Michael wonders what good first impression he can make on Sergio's family. It's nerve-wracking, because apparently Sergio has a twin brother, and two older sisters. He faintly remembers Sergio mentioning a brother, although didn't see the guy yet...

"My parents are excited to meet you," Sergio says, with strangely doesn't help dissipate the anxiety. "They're nice, so don't worry about it."

Of course, Michael worries about it. He thinks of made-up questions the parents can possibly ask, in order for him to practice appropriate answers.

When the school bell rings, signalling the end of the school day, Michael tries to stay calm. Drew advises him to appear confident, and compliment a lot. Chance says to be a gentleman, like introducing first and offering to put the dishes away. Sergio says to 'be yourself' but it isn't as simple.

Usually Michael will get a ride home from Sergio, but he takes the bus instead. He plans on wearing his orange hoodie and jeans, basically comfy clothes. He got the sweater as a gift from his parents. It was bought in Vancouver from one of his father's business trips, a bit oversized so it'll fit over days of it going through the laundry.

 _What would my parents think of? That I like a boy?_ Michael shakes his head at the thought. _I can't tell them._

Although being gay isn't as horrible back in the eighties, there will always be that fear of rejection. That sadly won't ever change.

Michael wonders what his siblings will think. He's the eldest, supposed to be a good role model—set the bar high. He isn't even sure what response there'll be—disgust? Acceptance? Happiness? It's hard to tell, because Brendan and Patrick don't really understand and Erica is generally a quiet kid. Kaitlyn is pretty open-minded, but she's like going through PMS and sometimes acts melodramatic.

Michael realizes he's going off-track; the main thing was to get ready, so he goes to his bedroom, and passes time on his phone.

He hardly spends time in his room, so the bedspread is still neat and pillow fluffy. Of course, he still cleans the sheets and pillow-case—not risking any bed bugs or other insects. Laundry is a bit troublesome, since Michael just throws clothes in the pile, procrastinating on it until he needs new clothes.

It's near 6:30 that Michael makes sure his hair looks good. He always styles it a certain way, using hairspray.

He sees that Sergio sends a text reminder, and he quickly replies.

**Sergio: Are you ready?  
Michael: Yeah, on my way :)**

Since it's March, and most days are sweltering, there is no need for a coat. Michael has to walk a few blocks to the nearest bus stop, hoping he isn't running late. He should've been out of the door earlier.

The dinner is at 7:00, and the bus comes at 6:45.

 _Maybe a taxi is better... but that's just more money_. Michael sees the bus come into view, and he steps on, putting in change. His bus pass is not on him at the moment.

There's three other passengers, who mind their own business, seemingly as if they are along for the ride to anywhere.

The bus driver goes along the certain route, and Michael is the second-last to get off. He quickly checks the time—6:55—and sighs in relief.

Sergio already texted the address, and Michael makes sure it's the right number. The Calderon house is located in a cul-de-sac, which is a bit tricky to find.

49... 49... Michael notices the neighbourhood is nice. Each house looks cozy, with a trimmed lawn, fence, and flowers presented, giving a neatness factor. He stops in front of a white house, estimating it to have, at the very least, two floors. There's a small strawberry plant growing, isolated from the other plants.

As he heads to the grey door, he knocks three times. _Okay, so like, don't panic. Drew says I should act confident. And Chance says I should be—uh, gentleman-like._

"Hey!" Sergio opens the door, smiling brightly. There's a husky right by his heels, barking and wagging his (or her) tail. "We made pesto-pasta. Well, technically my mom did."

"That's great." Michael steps in, taking his shoes off. Good thing he wasn't wearing his socks from _Disneyland_. Having Mickey Mouse's head won't help with confidence.

"This is Hunter, or Hunti, as we call him." Sergio kneels down to pet his dog, cooing. "Hey boy, meet Michael Conor."

Michael crouches down beside Sergio, petting the beautiful husky. Hunter sniffs Michael's hand tentatively before licking it. Looking disinterested afterwards, Hunter trots off to find food.

A woman with long brown hair appears. "Hey, my name's Sabrina. Sergio told me all about you," she says.

"Oh, hi. I'm Michael." Michael stands up, a bit off guard. _Oh, wait, Sergio talked about me..._

"I already know." She laughs. "I'm guessing Sergio didn't mention me though, which I'm highly offended by."

"Hey, I talked about you," Sergio protests. Sabrina raises an eyebrow. "Well, I think so. But you hardly visit here anyway."

"There's this thing called _work_." Sabrina gives an apologetic look at Michael. "Sorry if this sounds awkward. Uhm, you should go meet Yeni and Joseph! They really want to meet you."

Michael nods his head, and Sergio leads him to the dining room.

"Hi!" A boy who looks similar to Sergio, though with different hair, gives a wave. He has on a denim jacket, and looks kind of older.

"Haven't seen you at school," Michael says, attempting a conversation.

Joe nods his head. "I was in an accident, but I'm all better now. I'll go to school tomorrow. Not looking forward to calculus class, though."

Michael nods his head, not knowing what else to say. Secretly he's wondering what sort of accident, but that type of curiosity may come off as rude.

"Brenda mentioned you a lot," Sergio grins playfully. "You should really ask her out. Penelope also has her eye on you."

"I've been planning to. Brenda visits me at the hospital... every day. I just don't know when to tell her." Joseph sheepishly looks up. "Let's eat. Do you like pasta, Michael?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Good answer." Joseph gestures to the empty spots at the table. "Sit down. I think mom and dad will be here soon."

As if on cue, Mr and Mrs Calderon enter along with a woman, who assumably is Yeni.

"Is this _the_ Michael Conor?" Mr. Calderon says. "Pleased to meet you." He shakes Michael's hand, Mrs. Calderon following suit.

"When did you and Sergio first meet?" Mrs. Calderon questions. "Sergio always seems embarrassed about describing certain moments, but can never stop talking about you."

Joseph laughs at this, with Sergio glaring. "Mom! We just met at school. I told you, it was at lunchtime." Sergio sits beside his twin brother, across from Michael.

Since Michael is in between Yeni and Sabrina, he feels kind of trapped. There's no familiarity... yet.

The parents are at the end—Mrs. Calderon beside Sergio, and Mr. Calderon at the end of the table. Hunter joins under the table, despite his size, and plants himself right in front of Joseph.

The food is set in the middle of the table, for people to serve onto their plates. It's definitely an upgrade from eating Mr. Noodles. Along with pesto-pasta, there's chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, and salad.

"There's a pitcher of water on the counter," Yeni says helpfully to Michael. "Unless you want a coke or lemonade."

"Thanks. Uhm, do you want me to bring you a glass?"

"That's sweet, but I'm good." Yeni glances mischievously at Sergio. "Hey Michael, so what do you think of my little brother?"

"He's good. Uhm, nice. Really nice." Michael feels himself shrinking. _Great impression_. "I think Sergio has an amazing sense of humour."

"Gets that from me," Mr. Calderon says, and Michael smiles good-naturally at the dad comment.

Michael finds that the meal isn't as awkward as he thought it will be. The family is incredibly nice, and the attention isn't only on him. They talk about school, interests, stories, and Michael practically feels like a member of the family after.

Although some questions are difficult to answer, such as _How is your family?_ and _What do you think will be your job in the future?_

Michael learned that Sergio is the older twin by one minute, Mr and Mrs Calderon immigrated to Canada, and that Joseph is also a soccer player.

Michael helps put away the dishes, and is ready to leave. Members of the Calderon family politely leave, each saying 'goodnight' and Sergio remaining.

"Want a drive home?" Sergio offers.

"I'm good. It's a school night." Michael puts on his shoes.

Sergio looks doubtfully at the door. "It's chilly. And dark."

"I'm all good," Michael insists. "See you tomorrow."

"Well, like don't die or anything."

Michael grins. "I'll try not to."


	15. Player One (Ready?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here’s the thing. I used to play basketball in 8th grade, but then stopped because I was terrible at it. There’s a vague memory of how it all works, but how the referee watches and the terminology is slipping away from my mind.

Basketball season ends around the last two weeks of the month, which also interferes with March Break. The very last game is on the thirty-first, and Sergio promises he'll be there.

Since Michael has participated in two or more sports, he gets a jacket with his number and last name. He offered Sergio to wear it to the game, like it wasn't a big deal (it was), and Sergio was beaming.

Eastwood High's colours are maroon and white, and their jerseys are huge, though Sergio says it looks "really cute". Michael knows Sergio is trying to be comforting, but playing on the court with a jersey that goes past his knees is not the move. He wonders why they are oversized anyway—since he's 5'11, then there must have been 6'3 guys in the previous years or something.

He tried to cycle it through the laundry (along with actually washing his other clothes) and it worked. Although the number on his jersey was faded and turned a dark shade of purple, hopefully the school didn't mind.

Eastwood High has an assembled basketball team of juniors and seniors (which goes the same for the freshman and sophomores team).

There's ten boys in total—Michael, Chance, Camry, Marcus, Dorian, Jon, Jaden, Paul, Timmy, and Stone. Although it may sound biased, Michael thinks their team is good. They're not divided on who's really the best player, and know when to pass the ball or make a shot.

In the first quarter of the game, Michael sits on the bench. The crowd is bigger than his expectations. He thinks only the families will come, but the bleachers are pack-full of students and adults.

Half of the crowd cheers when Eastwood High scores a point by Camry Jackson.

Michael watches the opposite team carefully, looking for any weaknesses. Number 15 and 20 have slow reflexes. The team mostly depends on number 1. Apparently Acre Lake High was their biggest sports rival, but so far they didn't look difficult.

Michael suddenly winces, when seeing Eastwood High's mascot trying to psych up the crowd. Their mascot is a penguin, although it looks kind of horrifying, with its yellow eyes crossed and a skirt... especially when it's dancing. Apparently the school decided to have a girl mascot, to encourage female empowerment. Michael's pretty sure that the person in the costume is a guy named Ian Milburn, but anyway. The point trying to be made wasn't effective.

The opposing team has a more impressive animal—the lion, who has that kind of gingham style dance going on. To be fair, both mascots are pretty cringey to watch.

"Wow." Dorian rubs his neck. "Hopefully Cam doesn't push it too far."

Michael diverts his attention to the older boy—Camry has had past injuries, including his knee. He had to be in a wheelchair, and crutches. The coach advised Camry to be careful, and at the very most play a quarter of the game.

"'Kay, Cam, we're putting you back," the coach says.

Cam jogs back, grabbing a drink of water. He high fives Michael and Dorian, before sitting back down.

"Conor, you're on." The coach glances at the score, 6-2 in their favour.

"Yeah! Michael!" Chance says. "You'll take on 5."

"Okay." Michael spots 5, who of course is a taller and buffer dude. He looks like he should be a linebacker for the NFL league, not on a high school basketball team.

It was sad to say, but they underestimated the other team. After the first half of the game, the other team caught up, surprising Eastwood High.

It wasn't really strategic—not playing your hardest then giving it your all during the beginning half, but it worked. Michael's team was already sweating and catching their breath.

"They're playing dirty," Dorian mutters, when he goes out on the court with Michael.

It's true. There have been incidents that people deemed as foul, but the referee turned a blind eye to each one, much to the outrage of the crowd.

Both teams huddle up, giving pep talks before the last half of the game.

"It's not going to be great out there, but we still have a shot," Jaden says. His voice oddly has that type of calming and preachy effect. When Michael first met Jaden, he couldn't believe the guy was 16. He looked much more older. "Even if we don't win, that's okay. We still have God. And since we're all turnt for Jesus, let's get out there and kill it."

The team just stares at Jaden, and Marcus is the only who smiles enthusiastically.

_"Who are we?"_

_"The Pride!"_

Their rival team chants.

_"What are we gonna do?"_

_"Win!"_

"Do we have a good cheer?" Jon wonders.

"Yeah, let's do one." Jaden clears his throat. "Uh, Marcus, make one up."

"Let's go Penguins! We have... grenades! Wait, uh, that doesn't rhyme."

Jaden shrugs. "What do you have, Michael? You can rap, right?"

"Yeah. I just need a beat."

"I can do one," Marcus offers. He starts to put a beat out, not at all looking self-conscious by the strange looks around him.

Michael quickly thinks, not sure what he's really saying. It's almost like the words form, like he said them in another life. "How come everyone wanna test me? Like I ain't got a reason to be killing them. Never keeping a hundred, 'bouta keep a million. Ain't nobody was on it now everybody be filling them. We the best six track on the map now! Headed for a minute now they wonder what it's at now! Stand back 'cause we only attack now—better know that nobody's holding me back now like—!"

They collectively put their hands in the middle. " _1, 2, 3, Penguins!_ " They cheer.

"Who the fuck are they?" One guy from the other team says.

"What does the rap even mean?" Another guy wonders. "Who's 'Six Track'?"

_"Maybe it's one of their names. Like a six pack."_

_"Ohhh.”_

_“Nah doofus, it’s ‘cause there’s six guys on a team. Idiot.”_

_”There’s five, stupid.”_

_”Ha! Who’s the idiot now?”_

The game starts off nicely, though Jon is shoved to the ground right after shooting. They still get a point, and Jon gets up without a wince.

"They can't do that," Dorian says, looking upset.

"At least we play fair," Jaden says. "That's all that matters. Besides, we're only two points behind."

"We can do this," Chance agrees. "I figure since Jon, Jaden, and I are expected to score, we can use Dorian as a surprise. Michael, keep an eye on 1 instead. He seems to like the ball the most. I'll take on 5."

"Okay." Michael finds it kind of funny that 5 is like way taller than Chance, but somehow it looks like a perfect match-off. Number one is a meerkat-looking dude, with sandy-blond hair and a self-satisfied smirk. The beady green eyes silently judge Michael, probably wondering why there was a switch.

"Ten couldn't keep up?" Meerkat Dude sneers, looking at Chance.

"Nah, he's just moving onto someone more challenging."

Their plan worked. The offence were focused on the main shooters, and Dorian took the opportunity to quickly race closer to the net.

One saw this, and Marcus quickly passed the basketball just in time as 1 collided into Dorian. It was a full body slam, Dorian hitting the ground.

The referee hesitates, then quickly examines the scoreboard.

"That's a foul!" Jaden calls. "Hey, didn't you see that? Yeah, I'm talking to you, Mister!"

The referee with some reluctance blows his whistle, as Marcus helps Dorian up. "Body check by number one on number three. Two free throws."

"You got this!" Jon high-fives Dorian, giving a thumbs-up.

Player One/Meerkat Guy looks sour-faced.

Dorian eyes the net, then up to the board. He dribbles the ball, then takes a shot. It goes in, and Chance nods his head.

"Nice," Michael says softly, so Dorian won't be distracted.

When Dorian takes the second shot, Number one immediately grabs the rebound, quickly running to the other side. Although his teammates are open, he doesn't pass to any of them, and shoots from the three-pointer line. The basketball circles around the rim of the hoop, and Michael holds his breath.

It goes in.

The Lions holler, some slapping Number one's back.

Michael is impressed, but figures he shouldn't say it out loud. There's ten minutes left of the game, and they are 9-13. The coach calls for a time-out.

The people on the bleachers start to cheer, some holding up signs or clapping.

" _Yeah Michael!_ " One person shouts.

Michael scans the crowd to see Sergio. The younger boy is sitting with Drew, Brady, J-Hype, and Miles. It's kind of odd to see them all together, but nice.

Sergio gives a wave, once realizing that Michael (finally) notices him. Although it looks kind of weird, Michael waves back, smiling.

"Aw, doesn't he look so cute?" Chance says.

"Are you talking about Serg or Drew?" Michael asks.

"Shut up." Chance lightly swats Michael's arm.

Their team takes a drink of water, the coach replacing Chance with Stone and Jaden with Timmy.

"Okay," Michael says. "We have nothing to lose. Given the time we have, at the most, we can score two. Mostly defence is what we need."

Timmy snorts. "Not going to lie, Conor; you should be forward than back. I know you're good at free-shooting, so we'll try to make the ball available to you."

"That's good," Stone nods. "Michael, if you score a three-pointer, no pressure, we can get this."

"Since there's two options for a certain spot, we'll guard off the one and act like we'll shoot there," Marcus says. "You'll sneak back to the other side, and I'll pass it."

"I'll take on 5," Jon says. "We're about the same height."

They go back on the court, and the ball is given to Paul. He dribbles it up over the half court, and passes it to Stone.

While their team moves closer to the left side, Michael hanging at the end, he quickly runs to the right side. Marcus throws the ball, and before Michael's opponent can realize what's happening, Michael shoots. Just like déjà vu, he's holding his breath. Some sort of miracle, it swishes through the hoop, and there's a deafening sound of pride.

Player 1 glares, and as Michael's team move up to half-court, he—without any assisting—runs and tries to shoot. Michael blocks him, but then One sort of smirks then falls over.

"Ow! What the heck, man?" Meerkat Boy sniffs.

The referee blows the whistle. "Body check by number seven made on number one. Two free throws!"

 _Now the guy notices?_ Michael huffs. "I didn't even push you."

"Well it sure looked like you did." Meerkat Boy laughs, and at that moment all Michael can think of is how unfair it is.

_Honestly, why didn't anyone notice that he's faking?_

Michael tries to control his breathing, because his temper his gradually rising. Once they go into set formation, Michael hopes that 1 misses every time.

Of course, the first one goes through. Then the second one.

Paul grabs the rebound, and dribbles up the court before making a long pass to Stone.

Stone makes a lay-up, but their score isn't enough. They're only one point behind.

The buzzer goes off, and in victory, the Lions cheer.

"Haha, you did it again Jiff!" A member from the opposite team shakes Player One's shoulder.

 _His name is Jiff?_ Michael shakes his head. Well, a name close to the peanut butter brand. No wonder why Jiff didn't turn out well. Probably bullied younger.

"We did well," Chance says, though there's a bit of disappointment.

"We were really close," Jaden agrees, then grins, probably thinking of a double meaning to his words.

Michael half feels like they lost because of him. If he guarded the Jiff dude better, they would've had a chance.

"Michael, you did good," Marcus says. "No idea you could make a three-pointer."

"I actually thought you wouldn't have made it," Camry says. "No offence."

Michael shrugs. "Fair enough."

The audience in the bleachers were already dispersing, meeting with their child or waiting in the car.

Drew, Sergio, Brady, J-Hype, and Miles went to greet them.

"We'll get them next year," J-Hype says.

Michael remembers that some players on their team are juniors, and nods his head.

"Legendary game. Usually we'll have a giant loss from the Pride," Miles says. "Last year they beat us by ten. Fuck them."

"Yeah, I didnt even push Jiff. Why didn't the referee call on some fouls?" Michael asks.

Jaden laughs. "Well, the referee is—no surprise—Jiff's uncle once removed. Or twice. But anyway, they are distantly related."

"What? I heard that Jiff bribed the guy," Drew says. "With chocolate and promises of free slushies."

"No, obviously the referee favoured the Lions because of their mascot," Jon says. "He was jealous of the snazzy moves, and figured to be the next mascot in line he'll have to give them another win."

"Now I just know y'all are messing with me." Michael smiles good-naturally, while the others laugh.

"Seriously though, I can't wait when we win one day..." Camry sighs. "I won't be here to see when it happens, though. Wish I played more."

"Remember last year? That's probably why coach didn't put you on," Dorian says.

"Alright, I'm gonna go hit the showers," Marcus says. "Meet you guys later."

"Pizza party at my place!" Timmy whoops. "Be there, or be... square."

Brady winces, probably thinking of how cringey that sounded. It wasn't difficult to aggravate the blond boy. Chewing loudly, dabbing, pretending to not know what he is saying... it‘s pretty hilarious.

Michael looks to locate Sergio, seeing that the younger boy is talking to Miles. For some reason, he feels upset that Sergio didn't talk to him first.

Drew and Chance are holding hands, having that weird special moment that couples have. Michael smiles at the sight. He totally called it.

The bleachers are already empty, and the other team is probably celebrating outside or whatever.

Suddenly, Marcus runs into the gymnasium, his brown eyes wide with panic. "Guys, we may have a problem."


	16. Problems With Egotistical People

Marcus is that type of go-with-the-flow person. So seeing him riled-up, and frowning, is a bad sign.

"What is it?" Michael asks.

"Nothing good." Marcus wrings his hands. "Like, maybe it's not totally bad. But..."

"Just tell us," Miles says, earning a cough from J-Hype.

"The Lions. They raided our stuff."

"Oh my god." Camry looks angry. "What the hell? That's so..."

"Inconceivable!" Brady interjects, then clears his throat. "Sorry. I watched _The Princess Bride_ last night."

"That movie is so good!" Sergio agreed enthusiastically. "Oh my god, Westley!"

"Wait, did you just call me by my last name?" Miles asks.

"No, a character in the movie is named _Westley_ ," Brady automatically corrects. "With a 't'. He's the one who says 'as you wish' which makes you think he's kind of whipped. Like, if Princess Buttercup said 'jump off a cliff' I'm pretty sure Westley would say 'as you wish' and do it."

"Who the heck is Buttercup?" J-Hype looks completely mystified.

"Guys! Our things were raided by our rival team. Not good," Jon reminds them. His eyes widen. "Wait! If they took my sweater..."

Michael's also upset, because he's protective of his things. He left a pack of gum in his sweater pocket, too, which is a small loss. At least he didn't wear his orange hoodie—he would've been out for murder.

"They cheat, now they take our stuff," Camry says. "We gotta do something. I'm going to go talk some sense into them."

"Yeah! I wanna come!" Brady looks excited.

"If you're gonna come, you have to come all the way," Jaden says.

"Oh, uh." Obliviousness is clear to see on Brady. "I'm sure that making a proposition with the other team will work. We have nothing to lose, since they took all of your invaluable possessions."

"What are you saying?" Camry gives a strange look. "By talking, I mean using fists."

"And my pink sweater is not an 'invaluable possession'!" Jon adds. "Hm, but I was thinking of opening a line for that design. My father owns a clothing store... if people wear it, and it becomes trendy, it'll be great promo if some guy from Acre Lake wore it!"

Jaden puts a hand up. "Back to the situation at hand. If we resort to violence, then we're not going to be the bigger man. And they probably expect us to pick a fight. Show that we just go hitting on most of those scrawny guys."

"But where's the justice in that?" Miles asks.

"What goes around comes around. If people play sports by cheating, it's not winning. I just recommend that those people don't have a career in any sport—probably be kicked off any team when seeing them play." Jaden tries to sound optimistic, yet his facial expression is unreadable.

"Nobody will believe us anyway," Dorian mumbles. "Jus' think we're angry 'cause we lost."

Michael frowns. The situation at hand isn't fair at all, and he silently tells himself to do something about it.

As the team heads into the empty locker room, sight confirmed, Michael storms outside the building with purpose.

The Lions team are hanging out on nearby benches, waiting. They collectively still have their jerseys on, most wearing baseball caps because of the warm weather.

"Hey," Jiff says. "Nice game."

"Yeah, it wasn't so nice," Michael snaps. "You guys cheated."

"Typical for what a guy from a losing team would say," one of the guys smirks. He bears some resemblance to Jiff with the thin face and small eyes.

"Nice one, Billy!" A guy says. His bright carroty hair greatly contrasts against his gold and blue jersey. He looks like the weak link of the group—if it was a movie, he'll be the comic relief guy.

"What's going on here?" Miles steps alongside Michael, J-Hype close behind.

"Eh, it's Wes!" Jiff laughs. "Bro, long time no see."

"Shut up." Miles glares at the Acre Lake High players, causing Michael to wisely move out of the sight of fire.

"C'mon, we used to hang out. What happened? The school soften you up?" Player 5, who looks far more laid-back off the court, asks.

"I think we should leave," J-Hype says. "Let's go."

"So you're hanging out with these guys," Jiff muses. "Interesting. A rich kid and a beatboxer. Not exactly your normal crowd."

"I'm done with you guys." Miles clenches his fists.

Michael exchanges a look with Jay. He doesn't understand what Miles' relationship was with these guys—he thought it was just a school rivalry, but it's more than that, clearly.

"We helped you with your girlfriend. Not our fault you guys broke up." Jiff crosses his arms, seriousness sweeping across his features. "Can't say I told you so. She was way out of your league. Needed a better man."

"Fuck you guys!" Miles strides forward, and Michael and J-Hype immediately lock his arms back.

_"Hey! Stop it!"_

The attention shifts to Brady, Drew, Sergio, and the rest of the baseball team racing out.

"Where is my sweater!" Jon yells, which does not at all help remedy the situation at hand.

"You want your clothes back? Hope you don't mind the smell," Billy laughs.

"Nice one!" Orange Hair Guy laughs, putting his hand up. Nobody gives him a high-five.

"Nah, we know why you're angry. Probably because of Chance Perez," Jiff says, still looking straight at Miles. He stands up, eying the rest of the team. "You all are fags."

Michael feels anger boil inside of him, and he lets go of Miles. "What did you just say?"

"Y'all can shut the hell up, because these are my boys," Camry steps in. He walks closer, until he's standing face-to-face with Jiff.

Michael realizes that the people with him are also looking angry. It startles him a bit to see Chance, Sergio, Drew, Jaden, and Marcus having glares.

Jiff and his team hesitates.

"We're just playing," Number Five Guy eventually says. "Don't want any trouble."

"Too late." Miles suddenly lunges toward Jiff, and punches him. Camry luckily steps out of the way in time. That's when it all begins.

Michael doesn't know what sets the rest of them off, but somehow both teams are fighting. He begins seeing red when a guy pushes Sergio, and immediately intervenes. Michael pushes the guy away, but is knocked to the ground.

Pain explodes in the back of his head, but Michael rolls back up to his feet.

"Michael!" Sergio begins, but the guy is not done yet.

Michael tries as best as he can to defend himself, but the blows are random. Sergio wrestles the guy back, and they both fall on the ground. Michael pulls Sergio up, and both of them back away.

"Someone call the police!" A person yells, but Michael can't place the voice.

Watching the fight is dizzying to watch. Michael can't recognize who is who.

"Michael. _Michael_." Chance is shaking his shoulder. "Michael, we have to do something. Do you have your phone?"

"No, I don't." Michael shakes his head. He feels sick to his stomach. He doesn't realize that he's leaning against Sergio for support.

"W-Wait. I do." Sergio brings his phone out, handing it to Chance.

Chance quickly makes a call. "Hello? Yeah. There's a fight going on. Likely injuries, but I can't keep track. We're in front of the Sports Centre on 49th street. Thank you." He hangs up, giving the phone back to Sergio yet not taking his gaze off of the scene.

"Is that Drew?" Michael asks uncertainly, seeing a person in a blue shirt. _Drew was wearing that today, wasn't he?_

"Fuck," Chance whispers. He quickly runs over to help break up the fight.

Michael closes his eyes. His head is spinning, and all he can think of is Sergio with him. "Sergio—" Michael begins. _God, he's really dizzy. It's like he has a high fever._

"Michael? Are you okay?"

Michael struggles to keep his eyes open. "I need to sit down."

"Of course." Sergio hastily brings them both to sit down on the grass, and that's when Michael blacks out.


	17. Go For The Dying Question

"I think I died then came back alive." Michael rolls on his side, wincing in the process. He's in a hospital bed, though the wounds are not that bad. He knows that Jiff is definitely beaten up—as is Miles.

Sergio leans forward in his seat, elbows resting on his thighs. He's sitting near the bed, and it's around 7 AM. "Michael, shut up. Your head was freaking bleeding! You scared me so much."

Michael laughs weakly. "Sorry." He pauses, a memory flashing across his mind. "If I collapsed, you'd slap me. Remember? It was when we were going to Jon's house."

"You're right, I did." Sergio lightly hits Michael on the arm. "You already look bruised enough, though."

"What happened to the others?"

Sergio's eyes lower. "Uhm, Camry, Brady, Chance, Jay, Jaden, and Dorian are fine. Just a bit shaken up. Marcus has a broken arm. Drew has fractured ribs. A few other guys already went home so they missed the fight. Pretty sure Jon's still looking for his sweater."

"You're okay, right?"

This makes the younger boy smile. "I'm not the one in the hospital bed, Conor."

It takes a moment for Michael to realize that _he's_ Conor. He hasn't heard his real name in a while... "I think I'm fine to leave, right?"

"Not until your parents come. They need to sign papers. Rules of being 'discharged'... I think that was the word."

 _Great_. Michael closes his eyes.

"Michael? Where are your parents?"

"At work." Michael looks at Sergio. "They always are."

"Oh." Sergio frowns. "What if you called?"

"I try not to. Probably will go to voicemail."

Sergio doesn't say anything more on the topic, and points to a bouquet of flowers lying on the counter. "Those are for you. My family helped. I added candy, but then Hunti tried to eat it, so... it didn't turn out well."

"Aw, thanks." Michael smiles. "It looks amazing."

"You probably want to sleep. I'll visit you later, okay?"

"Okay." Michael wants to say something—anything, really—but tiredness pulls at him, losing ability for conversation. He closes his eyes.

. . .

Brady and J-Hype visit later that day, mostly comforting Michael by saying normal stuff. They talk about school; how the teachers don't assign any homework because of the incident. It seems 'inappropriate' considering the circumstances.

Once the police have investigated in the fight, some students of Acre Lake High are suspended. Miles is also suspended, though Jay adds that it kind of makes sense, even though he was provoked. The items that were stolen by the rival school are returned, so Michael chews on a piece of mint gum for awhile.

Chance also visits, acting like the parental figure. Michael answers the concerning questions around his health with ease.

Michael figures he can get answers, and although he doesn't like prying, there is natural curiosity. "What's up with Miles and those guys?"

"You mean Acre Lake? Well, I'm pretty sure Miles hangs out with them. Used to, anyway. According to the rumour mill, they stabbed him in the back."

Michael nods his head. "So what does Miles have to do with you? Sorry, you don't have to answer. I'm just confused."

"Wow, you seem really healthy for a guy who fainted." Chance gives a wry smile.

"I didn't faint. I just passed out."

"Okay, passed out, then. Anyway, Miles and I were close. We'd been best friends since first grade."

"Best friends?" Michael can't visualize that. Miles and Chance look and act like complete opposites.

"Yeah. Then high school came around. I guess everything starts to change. I came out in my freshman year. I don't think that's the reason why Miles and I drifted apart. He said it was cool, but it felt like we weren't on the same level. We kind of fell out like friends do."

"Okay. But you guys still talk."

"Not until today," Chance admits. "Miles... he's always independent. He thinks he doesn't need anyone. When high school hit, he didn't talk to me. I could never figure him out. Sometimes I try to reconnect, but we don't have that type of chemistry anymore."

"Seriously? Why doesn't Miles have any other friends?"

"It's hard for him to trust. With his parents split, and being the only child—it's difficult." Chance tilts his head. "I feel like I'm saying things I shouldn't. Talk with Miles, I think he likes you."

Michael scratches his head. "Isn't he in a coma?"

"No. But it does look like he was mauled by a bear."

They spend a few minutes talking before Chance says he needs to go home. With a one-armed hug they say their goodbyes, and Michael wonders when he can throw the now-tasteless gum out.

. . .

The nurse visits around nine to ask if Michael needs anything, like an extra blanket or drink of water. Michael declines politely, but wonders if he can use his phone.

The nurse doesn't look fazed by this, handing Michael the electronic device resting on the counter.

"Phone off by eleven," the nurse instructs, before leaving.

Michael checks his messages. Devin doesn't really text him anymore, which is a bit disappointing. But they're moving on with their own lives. He sees that his brother Patrick sent a message—

**Patrick: Hey ugly**

To which he rolls his eyes, but feels glad of the normalcy. Although he's the one gone, he wonders what his siblings are feeling.

_Hopefully they're okay without me._

**Sergio: I'm sorry I can't visit tonight :(**  
**Sergio: I'll see you tomorrow though** ❤️

**Michael: I'll be waiting**  
**Michael: Because I'm not going anywhere, you know**

Michael decides that his humour is horrible, and plays a random app on his phone called _Space Frontier_. He smiles when seeing Sergio's response.

**Sergio: Haha very funny**  
**Sergio: When you're out we can go on a date**

_"Date". Wait... what?_

Michael rereads the message, heart beating faster. _Whoa, okay. What do I say? Okay, uhm, act cool_.

**Michael: That'll be interesting**

_Interesting? Sure, okay_. Michael wonders if he's overthinking it. Sergio slips words out casually, so maybe it was a joke.

Michael rubs his neck, wondering if he should call his parents. Although he's technically an adult here, the rules are he needs a guardian or parent to sign him out.

He looks at his phone's clock. If it's 9 over here, then it will be 8 in Anderville.

_Just call them._

Michael bites his lip, clicking on the call button in his contacts. He doesn't realize his hands are shaking from nervousness.

_I can't do this. What do I say?_

"Hello? Who is this?"

Michael slowly exhales. Despite going through crazy things, like parties, fights, and suspensions, this somehow became the most difficult thing to do.

"Hey mom. I'm, uh, in the hospital."

"Conor! Are you okay? What happened?"

"There was a fight. But I didn't do anything. I just.. I never did anything." Michael feels his eyes stinging. "I need a parent to sign me out."

"Conor, honey, it's okay. We'll be visiting you right in the morning. Okay, just stay safe, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Everything will be okay."

Michael's throat tightens, yet somehow, he believes those words.


	18. Great Red River Valley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this story is inspired by the song, "Your Life Over Mine" by Bry (2012). The song, from my perspective, is about time passing by, and not letting moments go to waste. It may be a song with regrets and wanting to rewrite the past, yet it fits perfectly with this story. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading :)
> 
> P.S This story will be edited sometime in the future. I mean, I’m not completely satisfied with the ending. I also made changes on the Wattpad version that I need to change on here.

It surprises Michael when he sees his parents and siblings visit him in the hospital.

Initially there's a moment of awkwardness—taking in the fact that he hasn't seen them for eight months leads to uncertainty.

"Hey," Michael finally says. "Pretty sure this is the part when we're all happy and talking."

Erica is the first to race over and hug him, the tension fading to a relaxed atmosphere. She looks more older, different from the shy, quiet girl months ago.

"What happened to you?" Kaitlyn asks. "You look fine to me." Although she says this bluntly, there's concern written across her face.

"Well, there was this rival school. Led to a fight. But everyone's fine now." Michael is blown away at the fact that his family came to visit him. "Did you guys even have time to pack?"

"Not really, but we wanted to visit you," Patrick explains, pride evident in his voice. "So I said I'll clean the dishes for a month if we could come."

"Uh oh. Guess we'll need to buy new dishes next month. Patrick's just going to break all of them," Michael teases.

Patrick pouts at this, but makes no move to defend himself.

"Sweetie, we all missed you so much. We planned on visiting you over Christmas, but the flights were all closed." Michael's parents exchange a guilty look over this.

"If it's alright, we were wondering if we could talk with you alone," Michael's dad adds.

"Sure. Not like I'm going anywhere."

"That is not funny, Conor," Dena Smith scolds her son.

"I mean, kind of true. Sorry." Michael gingerly moves upward to hug the rest of his family.

"Can I stay?" Brendan asks.

"It's only between Conor and us, sorry bud." Mr. Smith tousles his youngest son's hair. "Kaitlyn will buy you chocolate from the vending machine, how does that sound?"

"Yeah!"

At the bribe, Michael's siblings head out of the room. Once the door shuts, his mom holds his hand, having a soft smile.

Through long work days, both of Michael's parents have weary yet content looks. They may appear older than they actually are, but there's the unmistakable look of proud parents. Their smiles and worry lines are from raising their children, and watching them even if not at home.

"When you were younger," Michael's mom says, "you smiled so much. Now you're getting older, and I wonder where my happy little boy went. Look at you."

Michael smiles a bit, though there's a wave of emotion hitting him. He didn't know when he could see his parents again, or how it will turn out. He didn't know if it was formal, or casual. All he wanted was to talk to his parents in a way like they have always been there. "I'm still the same. I guess I just grew up."

"You grew up too fast. And that was partly our fault." Mr. Smith clears his throat. "We understand it's difficult, with us not being there to guide you. I guess we should've been more lenient—you had so many responsibilities, but not enough time to just be a teenager."

Michael closes his eyes. "I don't... I'm sorry." He takes a shaky breath. "It's just hard without you. I wish you could stay home more often."

His father nods. "Your mother and I are thinking—well, planning—to have special hours off of work to hang with you guys. Does that sound good?"

"That'll be great. I, uhm... I love you." The words strangely feel foreign. Michael hasn't said it in awhile, but he hopes his parents understand that.

"Love you too, pal," Dad grins.

"I love you too." His mom pulls Michael in a hug. "Now, I have a very important question."

"Hm?"

"Who's Sergio? Apparently he sent you a text message with the heart emoji."

Michael freezes. "About that. He's a friend. Kind of. Not really."

"Ah." Michael's parents share a knowing look.

"He was my first friend here," Michael says at last. And that's the complete truth.

After the affectionate Smith family reunion, the nurse walks in to talk to Michael's parents. Since Michael has a concussion (thankfully not a skull fracture), all he needs to take is Tylenol if he has a headache.

"We managed to book hotel rooms, so we hope you can hang out with us there," Mr. Smith says.

"Okay." Michael nods his head.

"I hope you can tell us everything." Michael's mom gives a sad smile. "I'm sorry what happened. It was not fair for you be alone."

"It's okay." Michael doesn't want anyone to feel guilty: What's done is done, and hopefully things will be better.

Some part of him is clinging on to the life that was planned out for him—but his parents are trying to spend more time with their kids, and Michael decides to also try.

Life, in a way, is some sort of test that makes it seem unfair and messed-up. There's no prediction of the future, but maybe that's for the best. It's life, and that itself holds the secret of beauty and wonderment. Things like that shouldn't be comprehended. Time still goes on, and things change.

 _Live with no regrets_.

That was an important mantra, and in some way, Michael finally achieved it.

. . .

"Since when do you use a heart emoji?" Michael asks. Sergio and him are sitting across from each other in booths at _Chillin' Slush_. He wonders if it's a date.

The place has a lot of people, who probably have free coupons. It's the first time Michael has been in this place, but it looks nice.

The restaurant's colours are lavender and light grey, the tiled floor even having the same colour scheme. Some of the paint is faded or chipped from years of the place being open, but it welcomes comfortableness.

Sergio has his drink half-full, the colour a muddied purple. He mixed blue raspberry and grape together, swearing that it was a good idea.

Michael spins his straw around, nearly done with his slushie. Mostly there's ice left, the flavour of mango turning to mostly water.

"What? I always use emojis," Sergio protests.

"My parents read your text message."

"Oh. What did they say?"

"Mostly curious about you." Michael touches his hair, making sure it stays up. He's wondering why Sergio isn't freaking out, but then again, Sergio isn't the type to be dramatic. Maybe it's not a big deal.

"Hey, do I get to meet your family?" Sergio brightens. "Any siblings?"

"Four younger ones."

"Wow. Any pets?"

"No."

Sergio gives a look. "You're not going to keep giving me short answers, are you?"

"Maybe." Michael grins.

"'Cause I'm pretty sure that on a date, we're supposed to learn more about the other person."

Michael is more alert, stomach getting that weird fluttery feeling. "This is a date?"

Sergio looks worried. "Oh. I'm sorry. Wasn't sure, are you okay with that? I mean, I thought—are you—?"

"I'm okay with that." Michael checks his phone. "Thirty minutes until the family dinner."

"Thirty?" Sergio looks disappointed. "Is this one of those ditch dates?"

"No, seriously." Michael lightly taps the younger boy's arm. "Follow me."

They head out of the slushie place, and Michael looks around for a quiet area. There's not that many people around, so he locks eyes with Sergio. Already it makes Michael's heart race, just looking at the Latino.

Michael has no clue what will happen in the future. All he knows is that music is a key part of it. Although he originally wanted to be independent, he realized that it will be lonely.

Trying to get his words out is difficult, because he doesn't want Sergio to go away. Sergio didn't leave him when he got in a fight. Or when he told the story of why he moved to Endorlow. Not even when he was annoyed, angry, or feeling down.

_What if I never met him? Serg is like... I can't imagine not having him around._

"If we can manage it somehow, we could be... together. At least keep in touch," Michael finally says. His voice sounds uncertain, opening up to vulnerability.

"I want that." Sergio hugs Michael, catching the taller boy off-guard. "Definitely."

Michael hesitantly returns the hug, smiling. After they pull away, he bites his lip with a decision in mind. Before cowering, he quickly kisses Sergio on the lips. Michael can taste blue raspberry and grape, which actually do taste good together.

At first, Sergio looks surprised. Then one of those smiles that look so genuine and beautiful appears.

"Was that okay?" Michael's heart is beating fast. He feels so goddamn happy that he just did that.

"Yeah." Sergio holds Michael's hand. "Is this okay?"

"Yessir."

Sergio laughs. "You're hella cute. _Te amo_."

Although Michael doesn't speak Spanish, he's pretty sure he knows what Sergio just said. And everything's okay.


End file.
